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.

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.

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

Gold all is not that doth golden seem.