“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.”

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.

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.

Fondnesse it were for any being free, To covet fetters, though they golden bee.

He did say I fascinated him, but he really should have clarified to me that I was just the fascination for the day.

They hit like waves, the memories of those old summer days. Memories you’d have thought to erase, but they crash ashore without haste.

And the day fell into night but you’re still my brightest light.

The day we run out of petrol is the day Iran will be free.

If any one dares today I am in pain.

Sincerity is the key which will open the door through which you will see your separate parts, and you will see something quite new. You must go on trying to be sincere. Each day you put on a mask, and you must take it off little by little.

Come crawl atop me and we will spend the daylight buried in kisses.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.