“Epigrams need no crier, but are content with their own tongue.”

I’m what I seem; not any dyer gave, But nature dyed this colour that I have.

Some good, some so-so, and lots plain bad: that’s how a book of poems is made, my Friend.

Can the fish love the fisherman?

Tis easy to write epigrams nicely, but to write a book is hard.

For wealth’s now given to none but to the rich.

Red-haired, black-lipped, club-footed, and blink-eyed; if you’re a good man, you’re a wonder!

Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are bald. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are carrotty. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are one-eyed. He who kisses you, Philaenis, sins against nature.

The virtuous man is never a novice in worldly things.

She grieves sincerely who grieves unseen.

You crystal break, for fear of breaking it: Careless and careful hands like faults commit.

You’re obstinate, pliant, merry, morose, all at once. For me there’s no living with you, or without you.

Rarity gives a charm; so early fruits and winter roses are the most prized; and coyness sets off an extravagant mistress, while the door always open tempts no suitor.

Man loves malice, but not against one-eyed men nor the unfortunate, but against the fortunate and proud.

Gifts are like fish-hooks; for who is not aware that the greedy char is deceived by the fly which he swallows?

It is as good as second life to be able to look back upon our past life with pleasure.

Some things are good, some middling, more bad.

I am a writer, I deal in words. There is no word that should stay in word jail, every word is completely free. There is no word that is worse than another word. It’s all language, it’s all communication.

Only the foolish, blinded by language’s conventions, think of fire as red or gold. Fire is blue at it’s melancholy rim, green in it’s envious heart. It may burn white, or even, in it’s greatest rages, black.

Fear not because your prayer is stammering, your words feeble, and your language poor. Jesus can understand you.

Agnostic is the Greek word, for the Latin word, for ignorant.

Remember that, however patient your study, you will never in adult life learn any language perfectly; the best you can hope for is to be a bore.

I am the only one in the world that understands the language of your soul.

Speaking English is like tongue-twist for me. I can speak each word perfect, but then you have to string them together like, ‘Blah, blah, blah.’ That’s when I get crazy.

Prayers have no boundaries. They can leap miles and continents and be translated instantly into any language.