Love, like a mountain-wind upon an oak, falling upon me, shakes me leaf and bough.
There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.
He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.
Beauty endures only for as long as it can be seen; goodness, beautiful today, will remain so tomorrow.
No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.
What cannot be said will be wept.