I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved; since I could not give gifts, I gave words.
Good hope is often beguiled by her own augury.
If you give up your quiet life, the bow of Cupid will lose its power.
Whether they yield or refuse, it delights women to have been asked.
Let me tell you I am better acquainted with you for a long absence, as men are with themselves for a long affliction: absence does but hold off a friend, to make one see him the truer.
When the lightning strikes but one, not one only does it terrify.