“How imperfect is all our knowledge!”

Our two souls therefore which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat.

Pleasure is none, if not diversified.

Love’s mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.

There is hook in every benefit, that sticks in his jaws that takes that benefit, and draws him whither the benefactor will.

I shall not live ’till I see God; and when I have seen Him, I shall never die.

Be more than man, or thou’rt less than an ant.

Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.

Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.

If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.

In heaven it is always autumn.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.

Solitude is a torment which is not threatened in hell itself.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

It’s never too late to gain knowledge and follow your goals.

Without Knowledge, Skill cannot be focused. Without Skill, Strength cannot be brought to bear and without Strength, Knowledge may not be applied.

For the very fact that my knowledge is increasing little by little is the most certain argument for its imperfection.

Wonder is the desire of knowledge.

Love follows knowledge.

Knowledge wins over ignorance. What about being happy? You naturally see what’s wrong first than to appreciate good things.

Ultimately you want to have the entire world’s knowledge connected directly to your mind.

Bodily exercise, when compulsory, does no harm to the body; but knowledge which is acquired under compulsion obtains no hold on the mind.