What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?

For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

Gather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love, whilst yet is time.

And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.

Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.

A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.

The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.