“Both wise, and both delightful too. And since Love ne’er will from me flee, A mistress moderately fair, And good as Guardian angels are, Only belov’d and loving me.”

Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.

Come, my best Friends! my Books! and lead me on.

Build yourself a book-nest to forget the world without.

Happy insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? Fed with nourishment divine, The dewy morning’s gentle wine!

Our yesterday’s to-morrow now is gone, And still a new to-morrow does come on. We by to-morrow draw out all our store, Till the exhausted well can yield no more.

Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.

Solitude can be used well by very few people. They who do must have a knowledge of the world to see the foolishness of it, and enough virtue to despise all the vanity.

Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.

Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.

Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make.

Why dost thou heap up wealth, which thou must quit, Or what is worse, be left by it? Why dost thou load thyself when thou ‘rt to fly, Oh, man! ordain’d to die?

Fill all the Glasses there; for why Should every Creature Drink but I? Why, Man of Morals, tell me why?

All this world’s noise appears to me a dull, ill-acted comedy!

Poets by Death are conquer’d but the wit Of poets triumphs over it.

Ah, yet, e’er I descend to th’ grave, May I a small House and a large Garden have. And a few Friends, and many Books both true

Books should, not Business, entertain the Light; And Sleep, as undisturb’d as Death, the Night.

The past is so reliable, so delightful and the best place to live.

What is there in the vale of lifeHalf so delightful as a wife;When friendship, love and peace combineTo stamp the marriage-bond divine?

We devastate the world, we repopulate it with new objects which, in turn, we immolate. The means to every crime is ours, and we employ them all, we multiply the horror a hundredfold.

For the warrior, every moment is a challenge to be genuine, and each challenge is delightful. When you let go properly, you can relax and enjoy the challenge.

Between the innocence of boyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy.

Pomegranate Soup is glorious, daring and delightful.

Suspense is torture … but delightful–or there’d be no gambling in the world.

When the heart is filled with love everything seems beautiful & delightful to us.