There is in every miracle a silent chiding of the world, and a tacit reprehension of them who require, or who need miracles.

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.

If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damned; alas; why should I be?

So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.

If we consider eternity, into that time never entered; eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period; and eternity had been the same as it is, though time had never been.

Women are like the arts, forced unto none, Open to all searchers, unprized, if unknown.

Nature's great masterpiece, an elephant; the only harmless great thing.