Tears are the noble language of the eye.

Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold; New things succeed, as former things grow old.

Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.

Tears are the noble language of eyes, and when true love of words is destitute. The eye by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.

Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score; Then to that twenty, add a hundred more: A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on, To make that thousand up a million. Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun.

The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.

Buying, possessing, accumulating--this is not worldliness. But doing this in the love of it, with no love of God paramount--doing it so that thoughts of eternity and God are an intrusion--doing it so that one's spirit is secularized in the process; this is worldliness.