God never made his work for man to mend.
Seas are the fields of combat for the winds; but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.
We first make our habits, and then our habits make us.
My love's a noble madness.
She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age.
Not to ask is not be denied.