“Then amongst flowers and springs, Making delightful sport, Sat lovers without conflict, without flame”

Love is when you don’t have to be with another person to touch their heart!

Fortune rarely accompanies anyone to the door.

Women have tongues of craft, and hearts of guile, They will, they will not; fools that on them trust; For in their speech is death, hell in their smile.

Any time not spent on love is wasted.

For when last need to desperation driveth, Who dareth most he wiseth counsel giveth.

Lost is the time that you don’t spend for love.

Grave was the man in years, in looks, in word, his locks were grey, yet was his courage green.

Perhaps if only once you did enjoy The thousandth part of all the happiness A heart beloved enjoys, returning love, Repentant, you would surely sighing say, “All time is truly lost and gone Which is not spent in serving love.”

A friend giveth sympathy in trouble.

A fool is he that comes to preach or prate, When men with swords their right and wrong debate.

It is the fortunate who should extol fortune.

Not for no cold did freeze, Nor any cloud beguile Th’eternal flowering spring

They make their fortune who are stout and wise, Wit rules the heavens, discretion guides the skies.

True love cannot be found where it does not exist, nor can it be denied where it does.

None merits the name of Creator but God and the poet.

O subtle love! a thousand wiles thou hast, by humble suit, by service, or by hire, to win a maiden’s hold,–a thing soon done, for nature framed all women to be won.

I’m delighted about the track’s success in the sports world, but the frustrating thing is,

It’s Satan’s delight to tell me that once he’s got me, he will keep me. But at that moment I can go back to God.

I am delighted at Des’s support in these elections. And thank him for his rewrite of the lyrics of Send in the Clowns which we are planning to sing at our South East conference.

All I can say is if the part doesn’t delight me in some way, or I can’t feel any compassion for it, I just can’t do it.

To be frivolous time-wasters, delighted in putting her favorite volumes into her grandchildren’s hands.

I’m delighted. I don’t know of anybody who had a statue built of them while they were living. It’s a great feeling.

but ignorance is a kind of insanity in the human animal. People who delight in torturing defenseless children or tiny creatures are in reality insane.

In those happy days when leisure was held to be no sin, men and women wrote journals whose copiousness both delights and dismays us.