The rich have no more of the kingdom of heaven than they have purchased of the poor by their alms.

Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.

My love though silly is more brave.

Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.

Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

A bride, before a "Good-night" could be said, Should vanish from her clothes into her bed, As souls from bodies steal, and are not spied. But now she's laid; what though she be? Yet there are more delays, for where is he? He comes and passeth through sphere after sphere; First her sheets, then her arms, then anywhere. Let not this day, then, but this night be thine; Thy day was but the eve to this, O Valentine.