Literature is a comprehensive essence of the intellectual life of a nation.

A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity; but you gods will give us Some faults to make us men.

If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.

I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapor of a dungeon than keep a corner in the thing I love for others uses.

Welcome ever smiles, and farewell goes out sighing.

In thy foul throat thou liest.

Parting is such sweet sorrow