He that desires to print a book, should much more desire, to be a book.
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent.
Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
My love though silly is more brave.
Between cowardice and despair, valour is gendred.