How much shall I be changed, before I am changed!

I have done one braver thing than all the Worthies did, and yet a braver thence doth spring, which is, to keep that hid.

And to 'scape stormy days, I choose an everlasting night.

Love was as subtly caught, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, for though 'Tis got by chance, 'Tis kept by art.

No man is an island unto himself.

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

My love though silly is more brave.