Love Is Merely A Madness.

For My Own Part, I Shall Be Glad To Learn Of Noble Men.

To Go To Bed After Midnight Is To Go To Bed Betimes

... I Am At War 'twixt Will And Will Not.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus Or Thus. Our Bodies Are Our Gardens, To The Which Our Wills Are Gardeners: So That If We Will Plant Nettles, Or Sow Lettuce, Set Hyssop And Weed Up Tine, Supply It With One Gender Of Herbs, Or Distract It With Many, Either To Have It Sterile With Idleness, Or Manured With Industry, Why, The Power And Corrigible Authority Of This Lies In Our Wills.

Life... Is A Paradise To What We Know Of Death.