Your talk of sniffling riders with invisible noses has unsettled me.
A hunted man sometimes wearies of distrust and longs for friendship.
The whole thing is quite hopeless, so it's no good worrying about tomorrow. It probably won't come.
There is no ship now that can bear me hence
I want to be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.
Few other griefs amid the ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for a man's heart than to behold the love of a lady so fair and brave that cannot be returned.