The heavens rejoice in motion, why should I Abjure my so much loved variety.

Can there be worse sickness, than to know that we are never well, nor can be so?

God is so omnipresent. . . . God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.

Enjoyment always has a spoiling, otherwise it cannot be so.

Dull sublunary lovers' love (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it.

That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither; but an obscenity.

But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.