Between cowardice and despair, valour is gendred.
More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
O how feeble is man's power, that if good fortune fall, cannot add another hour, nor a lost hour recall!
Contemplative and bookish men must of necessity be more quarrelsome than others, because they contend not about matter of fact, nor can determine their controversies by any certain witnesses, nor judges. But as long as they go towards peace, that is Truth, it is no matter which way.
So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.