If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.

Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there.

You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.

But when he has done this, let him not say that he knows better than his master, for he only holds a candle in sunshine.

My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv'n away And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.

Gratitude is heaven itself.

Fun I love, but too much fun is of all things the most loathsome. Mirth is better than fun, and happiness is better than mirth.