My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.

We can die by it, if not live by love, And if unfit for tombs and hearse Our legend be, it will be fit for verse; And if no peace of chronicle we prove, We'll build in sonnet pretty rooms; As well a well wrought urne becomes The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs.

Chastity is not chastity in an old man, but a disability to be unchaste.

The distance from nothing to a little, is ten thousand times more, than from it to the highest degree in this life.

God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.

I count all that part of my life lost which I spent not in communion with God, or in doing good.

Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.