Silence is the perfect herald of joy.
The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly.
Love is merely a madness.
I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.
Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.