Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men.
I know what I want and what I might gain, and yet, how profitless to know.
Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.
There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.
What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.