Wine, not too much, inspires and make the mind,to the soft joys of Venus strong inclined,which, buried in excess, unapt to love,stupidly lies and knows not hom to move
What is reason now was passion heretofore.
The prayers of cowards fortune spurns.
If you want to be loved, be loveable.
A bitter drug oft brings relief.
He who would not be idle, let him fall in love.