“And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.”

Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love’s delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.

For we by conquest, of our soveraine might,And by eternall doome of Fate’s decree,Have wonne the Empire of the Heavens bright.

Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.

Laws ought to be fashioned unto the manners and conditions of the people whom they are meant to benefit, and not imposed upon them according to the simple rule of right.

To be wise and eke to love, Is granted scarce to gods above.

For deeds to die, however nobly done, And thoughts of men to as themselves decay, But wise words taught in numbers for to run, Recorded by the Muses, live for ay.

Good is no good, but if it be spend, God giveth good for none other end.

Me seems the world is run quite out of square,From the first point of his appointed source,And being once amiss grows daily worse and worse.

In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.

But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right.

A sweet attractive kind of grace, A full assurance given by looks, Continual comfort in a face, The lineaments of Gospel books– I trow that countenance cannot lye Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.

But angels come to lead frail minds to rest in chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound. You frame my thoughts, and fashion me within; you stop my tongue, and teach my heart to speak.

Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.

Bright as does the morning star appear, Out of the east with flaming locks bedight, To tell the dawning day is drawing near.

For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto an other brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

To like many people spontaneously and without effort is perhaps the greatest of all sources of personal happiness.

As the reaper of his own harvest, man learns both of suffering and bliss

Peace and happiness are neither rooted in the marketplace nor the forest, but within.

Ultimately, life is neither suffering nor bliss. It is what you make it.

Happy is he who bears a god within, and who obeys it. The grandeur of human actions is measured by the inspiration from which they spring.

Instead of the greatest happiness for the greatest number, one should demand, more modestly, the least amount of avoidable suffering for all.

To be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness.

Aristotle defined virtues simply as the ways of behaving that are most conducive to happiness in life.