Be sure they sleep not whom God needs.

You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.

Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best.

Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.

Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.

Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?

O woman-country! wooed not wed, Loved all the more by earth's male-lands, Laid to their hearts instead.