1419  My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-seven now, and we don't know where the hell she is.

269  Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

758  Now my love is thaw'd; which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was.

706  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

797  I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.