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

For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.

Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.

All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring In goodly colours gloriously arrayed; Go to my love, where she is careless laid.

Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow.

How many perils doe enfold The righteous man to make him daily fall.

For next to Death is Sleepe to be compared; Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleepe, ther Richesse, and hel-gate them both betwext.

Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.

The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known, For a man by nothing is so well betrayed As by his manners.

Waking love suffereth no sleepe: Say, that raging love dothe appall the weake stomacke: Say, that lamenting love marreth the musicall.

All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.

This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.

Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

Together linkt with adamantine chains.

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

Those that were up themselves, kept others low; Those that were low themselves, held others hard; He suffered them to ryse or greater grow; But every one did strive his fellow down to throw.

No dainty flower or herbs that grows on ground, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweet, but there it might be found To bud out fair, and throw her sweet smells all around.

Great men are meteors designed to burn so that earth may be lighted.

Loving someone is slow dancing with emotions in a burning room.

If you want to shine like sun first you have to burn like it.

No matter how many tears are running down her face, They’ll never stand a chance to the fire burning in her heart.

Remembrance, like a candle, burns brightest at Christmas time.

I’m over the moon but burned under the sun, what I’ve gained I’ve lost all along.

Those little specks of burning fire showing me that light is never actually too far away

The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn.