No man is an island unto himself.
O how feeble is man's power, that if good fortune fall, cannot add another hour, nor a lost hour recall!
That subtle knot which makes us man So must pure lovers souls descend T affections, and to faculties, Which sense may reach and apprehend, Else a great Prince in prison lies.
In best understandings, sin began, Angels sinned first, then Devils, and then Man.
My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.
There is no health; physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.