We are all conceived in close prison; in our mothers wombs, we are close prisoners all; when we are born, we are born but to the liberty of the house; prisoners still, though within larger walls; and then all our life is but a going out to the place of execution, to death.

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

Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.

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

This Extasie doth unperplex (We said) and tell us what we love, Wee see by this, it was not sexe, Wee see, we saw not what did move: But as all severall soules contain Mixture of things, they know not what, Love, these mixt souls, doth mixe againe. Loves mysteries in soules doe grow, But yet the body is his booke.

I shall not live 'till I see God; and when I have seen Him, I shall never die.

Send home my long strayed eyes to me, Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee.