We carry within us the wonders we seek without us.

And surely, he that hath taken the true Altitude of Things, and rightly calculated the degenerate state of this Age, is not like to envy those that shall live in the next, much less three or four hundred Years hence, when no Man can comfortably imagine what Face this World will carry.

(Death is) A leap into the dark.

There is musick, even in the beauty and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument.

As sins proceed they ever multiply, and like figures in arithmetic, the last stands for more than all that wert before it.

I would not live over my hours past ... not unto Cicero's ground because I have lived them well, but for fear I should live them worse.

Light is but the shadow of God.