It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.

You are a tedious fool.

We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing, since things require a seed to start from... Therefore there is not anything which returns to nothing, but all things return dissolved into their elements.

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

Then to Silvia let us sing that Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing upon the dull earth dwelling.

The old folk, time's doting chronicles.

Conscience is a blushing, shamefaced spirit than mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of obstacles.