Pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure.

One hates an author that's all author.

Then, fare thee well, deceitful Maid!

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

Romances paint at full length people's wooing. But only give a bust of marriages.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away.

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.