“For in their hearts doth Nature stir them so Then people long on pilgrimage to go And palmers to be seeking foreign strands To distant shrines renowned in sundry lands.”

Love will not be constrain’d by mastery. When mast’ry comes, the god of love anon Beateth his wings, and, farewell, he is gone. Love is a thing as any spirit free.

If a man really loves a woman, of course he wouldn’t marry her for the world if he were not quite sure that he was the best person she could possibly marry.

By God, if women had written stories, As clerks had within here oratories, They would have written of men more wickedness Than all the mark of Adam may redress.

Woe to the cook whose sauce has no sting.

With empty hand no man can lure a hawk.

If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?

There’s no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.

Every honest miller has a golden thumb.

Harde is his heart that loveth nought In May.

Abstinence is approved of God.

What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.

If gold rust, what then will iron do? For if a priest be foul in whom we trust/ No wonder that a common man should rust.

With empty hands men may no hauks lure.

The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.

Men love newfangleness.

Many a true word is spoken in jest.

The scariest thing about distance is that you don’t know whether they’ll miss you or forget you.

Atheism is so senseless. When I look at the solar system, I see the earth at the right distance from the sun to receive the proper amounts of heat and light. This did not happen by chance.

It is easy to be brave from a safe distance.

Distance doesn’t exist, in fact, and neither does time. Vibrations from love or music can be felt everywhere, at all times.

Things never happen the same way twice.

Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy, thank you for loving me and receiving my love in return. Thank you for the memories I will cherish forever. But most of all, thank you for showing me that there will come a time when I can eventually let you go.

You are like night, calmed, constellated. Your silence is star-like, as distant, as true.

Those at too great a distance may, I am well are, mistake ignorance for perspective.