I am above being injured by fortune, though she steals away much, more will remain with me. The blessing I now enjoy transcend fear.
An evil life is a kind of death.
Beauty is a fragile gift.
That, which has not its alternation of rest, will not last long.
Love is the force that leaves you colorless
Ere land and sea and the all-covering sky Were made, in the whole world the countenance Of nature was the same, all one, well named Chaos, a raw and undivided mass, Naught but a lifeless bulk, with warring seeds Of ill-joined elements compressed together.