Woman is the lesser man.

Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.

All precious things, discover'd late, To those that seek them issue forth, For love in sequel works with fate, And draws the veil from hidden worth.

Sin is too stupid to see beyond itself.

Guard your roving thoughts with a jealous care, for speech is but the dialer of thoughts, and every fool can plainly read in your words what is the hour of your thoughts.

The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.

I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods.