Our two souls therefore which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat.

If I dream I have you, I have you, for all our joys are but fantastical.

Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.

Doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is.

Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.

For love all love of other sights controls and makes one little room an everywhere

Our critical day is not the very day of our death; but the whole course of our life.