True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted fly; It liveth not in fierce desire.

He that climbs a ladder must begin at the first round.

For love is heaven and heaven is love.

The Book of Books Within this ample volume lies The mystery of mysteries. Happiest they of human race To whom their God has given grace To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, To lift the latch, to force the way; But better had they ne'er been born That read to doubt or read to scorn.

Hurry no man's cattle; you may come to own a donkey yourself

Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.

Sensibility is nature's celestial spring.