Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.
No man is an island unto himself.
I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.
God is so omnipresent. . . . God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.
Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.