“Go, grieving rimes of mine, to that hard stone Whereunder lies my darling, lies my dear, And cry to her to speak from heaven’s sphere.”

Great errors seldom originate but with men of great minds.

Man has not a greater enemy than himself.

What name to call thee by, O virgin fair, I know not, for thy looks are not of earth And more than mortal seems thy countenances.

I rejoiced in my progress, mourned my weaknesses, and commiserated the universal instability of human conduct.

Where you are is of no moment, but only what you are doing there. It is not the place that ennobles you, but you the place, and this only by doing that which is great and noble.

Man has no greater enemy than himself. I have acted contrary to my sentiments and inclination; throughout our whole lives we do what we never intended, and what we proposed to do, we leave undone.

Perhaps out there, somewhere, someone is sighing for your absence; and with this thought, my soul begins to breathe.

There is no lighter burden, nor more agreeable, than a pen.

Life in itself is short enough, but the physicians with their art, know to their amusement, how to make it still shorter.

I have friends whose society is delightful to me; they are persons of all countries and of all ages; distinguished in war, in council, and in letters; easy to live with, always at my command.

Love is the crowning grace of humanity, the holiest right of the soul, the golden link which binds us to duty and truth, the redeeming principle that chiefly reconciles the heart to life, and is prophetic of eternal good.

The greater I am, the greater shall be my efforts.

Love is the crowning grace of humanity.

The end of doubt is the beginning of repose.

My flowery and green age was passing away, and I feeling a chill in the fires had been wasting my heart, for I was drawing near the hillside above the grave.

Who naught suspects is easily deceived.

I was glad to see other blues guitarists like Albert King have crossover successes like me. We played in the same places like the Whisky and the Filmore. When Albert made his guitar cry, he could cut you so deep!

It’s easier to hurt someone and make them cry, than it is to dry their eyes.

How evil life must be if it were indeed necessary that such imploring cries, such cries of physical and moral wretchedness, should ever and ever ascend to heaven!

Most days, I am the rain. – And that’s okay.

Weep, for the light is dead.

You take what you know, and you put it through your own prism. If I play characters that break down or cry, it’s Gary Oldman crying; it’s not the character crying.

No time to grieve for roses when the forests are burning.

Now let the weeping cease; Let no one mourn again. These things are in the hands of God.