Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above: For love is heaven, and heaven is love.

Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion.

But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men.

We are like the herb which flourisheth most when it is most trampled on.

He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.

Great talent has always a little madness mixed up with it.

I will tear this folly from my heart, though every fibre bleed as I rend it away!