Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

The wine-cup is the little silver well, Where truth, if truth there be, doth dwell.

I can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner; I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly; I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain; I have a secret that I cannot share.

Myself when young did eagerly frequent doctor and saint, and heard great argument about it and about: but evermore came out by the same door as in I went.

Heaven but the vision of fulfilled desire, and Hell the shadow from a soul on fire.

By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.

To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.