Jealousy, the old worm that bites.
A poet is a painter in his way, he draws to the life, but in another kind; we draw the nobler part, the soul and the mind; the pictures of the pen shall outlast those of the pencil, and even worlds themselves.
Love's a thin Diet, nor will keep out Cold.
God makes all things good; Man meddles with 'em and they become evil.
Time lessens all extremes and reduces 'em to mediums and unconcern.
No friend to Love like a long voyage at sea.