Love is when you don't have to be with another person to touch their heart!
Any time not spent on love is wasted.
True love cannot be found where it does not exist, nor can it be denied where it does.
Love is when he gives you a piece of your soul, that you never knew was missing.
None merits the name of Creator but God and the poet.
Fortune rarely accompanies anyone to the door.
It is the fortunate who should extol fortune.
Lost is the time that you don't spend for love.
Perhaps if only once you did enjoy
The thousandth part of all the happiness
A heart beloved enjoys, returning love,
Repentant, you would surely sighing say,
“All time is truly lost and gone
Which is not spent in serving love.”
They make their fortune who are stout and wise,
Wit rules the heavens, discretion guides the skies.
[Lat., Che sovente addivien che'l saggio e'l forte.
Fabro a se stesso e di beata sorte.]
O happy, golden age!
Not for that rivers ran
With streams of milk, and honey dropped from trees
The day of fortune is like a harvest day, We must be busy when the corn is ripe.
Women have tongues of craft, and hearts of guile,
They will, they will not; fools that on them trust;
For in their speech is death, hell in their smile.
[It., Femmina e cosa garrula e fallace:
Vuole e disvuole, e folle uom chi sen fida,
Si tra se volge.]
Grave was the man in years, in looks, in word, his locks were grey, yet was his courage green.
O subtle love! a thousand wiles thou hast, by humble suit, by service, or by hire, to win a maiden's hold,--a thing soon done, for nature framed all women to be won.
Then amongst flowers and springs,
Making delightful sport,
Sat lovers without conflict, without flame
A fool is he that comes to preach or prate,
When men with swords their right and wrong debate.
[It., Chi conta i colpi e la dovuta offesa,
Mentr' arde la tenzon, misura e pesa?]
Not for no cold did freeze,
Nor any cloud beguile
Th'eternal flowering spring
Virtue's guard is labor; ease, her sleep.
Horror itself in that fair scene looks gay,
And joy springs up e'en in the midst of fear.
[It., Bello in si bella vista anco e l'orrore,
E di mezzo la tema esce il diletto.]
For when last need to desperation driveth,
Who dareth most he wiseth counsel giveth.
[It., Che spesso avvien che ne' maggior perigli
Son piu audaci gli ottimi consigli.]
He, full of bashfulness and truth, loved much, hoped little, and desired naught.
As shaking terrors from his blazing hair, a sanguine comet gleams through dusky air.
A friend giveth sympathy in trouble.
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