This thing of darkness I acknowlege mine. There is nothing more confining than the prison we don't know we are in.

Men have marble, women waxen, minds.

If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage.

Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum of the heart.

The due of honor in no point omit.

Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.

I stalk about her door, like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage.