I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument?

And ruin`d love when it is built anew, grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater

O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.

Love`s reason`s without reason

Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.

Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.

Seek happy nights to happy days.W