Joy is a subtle elf; I think one’s happiest when he forgets himself.

Most women have small waists the world throughout, But their desires are thousand miles about.

When the bad bleeds, then is the tragedy good.

Since, by your greatness, you Are nearer heaven in place; be nearer it In goodness: rich men should transcend the poor, As clouds the earth; rais'd by the comfort of The sun, to water dry and barren grounds.

Joy is a subtle elf; I think one's happiest when he forgets himself.

I shine in tears like the sun in April.

A drunkard clasp his teeth and not undo 'em, To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em.

Most women have small waists the world throughout, But their desires are a thousand miles about