For his mourners will be outcast men, and outcasts always mourn. >>
Pleasure is Nature's test, her sign of approval. When man is happy, he >>
Popularity is the crown of laurel which the world puts on bad art. Wha >>
Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labor to overc >>
Only to have a grief equal to all these tears! >>
I wept not, so to stone within I grew. >>
Crying is the refuge of plain women but the ruin of pretty ones.