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Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.

Edmund Spenser

So much more profitable and gracious is doctrine by example than by rule.
EDMUND SPENSER

Grace Profit Rule
And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
EDMUND SPENSER

Happiness Pain Pleasure
All for love, and nothing for reward.
EDMUND SPENSER

Love Reward
Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.
EDMUND SPENSER

Action Blame Heaven Man Success
The Patron of true Holinesse, Foule Errour doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.
EDMUND SPENSER

Himself Home Hypocrisy True
But times do change and move continually.
EDMUND SPENSER

Change Move Time
And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain.
EDMUND SPENSER

Happiness Pain
Thankfulness is the tune of angels.
EDMUND SPENSER

Angel Gratitude Music One Liner Thankful
Yet is there one more cursed than they all, That canker-worm, that monster, jealousie, Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, Turning all love’s delight to misery, Through fear of losing his felicity.
EDMUND SPENSER

Curse Feed Happiness Heart Jealous Lose Misery
My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat?
EDMUND SPENSER

Cold Desire Fire Greatness Growth Hard Love Myself
For easy things, that may be got at will, Most sorts of men do set but little store.
EDMUND SPENSER

Easy Man Willing
For since mine eyes your joyous sight did miss, my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night.
EDMUND SPENSER

Eyes Joy Missing Night
For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
EDMUND SPENSER

Advice Lost Philosophy
Fly from wrath; sad be the sights and bitter fruits of war; a thousand furies wait on wrathful swords.
EDMUND SPENSER

Angry Fly Fruit Wait War Word
I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.
EDMUND SPENSER

Myself Promise Reason Season Time
For that which all men then did virtue call, Is now called vice; and that which vice was hight, Is now hight virtue, and so used of all: Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right.
EDMUND SPENSER

Call Man Myself Right Virtue Wrong

Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.

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Beauty is not, as fond men misdeem, an outward show of things that only seem.

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