“If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird’s life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends.

Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is!

Strong reasons make strong actions.

Nothing comes from doing nothing.

Of all the flowers, me thinks a rose is best.

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is.

Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once.

Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.

All things are ready, if our mind be so.

The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.

Ignorance is the curse of God; knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.

Grief makes one hour ten.

You speak an infinite deal of nothing.

Though she be but little, she is fierce!