Had Cain been Scot, God would have changed his doom

He that to ancient wreaths can bring no more From his own worth, dies bankrupt on the score.

The marigold, whose courtier's face Echoes the sun, and doth unlace Her at his rise, at his full stop Packs and shuts up her gaudy shop.

Like an ambassador that beds a queen With the nice caution of a sword between.

Never Mark Antony Dallied more wantonly With the fair Egyptian Queen.

Hamlet most brings home to us at once the sense of the soul's infinity, and the sense of the doom which not only circumscribes that infinity but appears to be its offspring.

You cannot dictate to any man what shall be his morality or his own religion. He must make his own choice. Your attempts to impose total sexual abstinence on him he regards as a meddlesome and impertinent interference with the expression …