To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent; to a competent I must answer.
I find no abhorring in my appetite.
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.
Whoever loves, if he do not propose The right true end of love, he's one that goes To sea for nothing but to make him sick.
How many times go we to comedies, to masques, to places of great and noble resort, nay even to church only to see the company.
Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.
My love though silly is more brave.
Old grandsires talk of yesterday with sorrow, And for our children we reserve tomorrow.
At most, the greatest persons are but great wens, and excrescences; men of wit and delightful conversation, but as morals for ornament, except they be so incorporated into the body of the world that they contribute something to the sustentation of the whole.
We can die by it, if not live by love, And if unfit for tombs and hearse Our legend be, it will be fit for verse; And if no peace of chronicle we prove, We'll build in sonnet pretty rooms; As well a well wrought urne becomes The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs.
Our faults are not seen, But past us; neither felt, but only in The punishment.
I neglect God and his angles for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
Though truth and falsehood be Near twins, yet truth a little elder is.
Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by it and made fit for God.
But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.
In best understandings, sin began, Angels sinned first, then Devils, and then Man.
True and false fears let us refrain, Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore ; this is the second of our reign.
And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
There is no health; physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
The difference between the reason of man and the instinct of the beast is this, that the beast does but know, but the man knows that he knows.
I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither; but an obscenity.
Let man's soul be a sphere, and then, in this, The intelligence that moves, devotion is.
He must pull out his own eyes, and see no creature, before he can say, he sees no God; He must be no man, and quench his reasonable soul, before he can say to himself, there is no God.
That subtle knot which makes us man So must pure lovers souls descend T affections, and to faculties, Which sense may reach and apprehend, Else a great Prince in prison lies.
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