For a man to become a poet (witness Petrarch and Dante), he must be in love, or miserable.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the Glowing Hours with Flying feet
The Cardinal is at his wit's end - it is true that he had not far to go.
Absence - that common cure of love.
Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.
One certainly has a soul; but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a body is more than I can imagine.