He who without the Muse's madness in his soul comes knocking at the door of poesy and thinks that art will make him anything fit to be called a poet, finds that the poetry which he indites in his sober senses is beaten hollow by the poetry of madmen.

There is no such thing as a lovers' oath.

Every man is a poet when he is in love.

The passionate are like men standing on their heads, they see all things the wrong way.

The prisoner grows to love his chains.

The most virtuous are those who content themselves with being virtuous without seeking to appear so.

I have good hope that there is something after death.