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

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.

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.

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

He, full of bashfulness and truth, loved much, hoped little, and desired naught.

When the stakes are this high- when calling God by the right name can make the difference between eternal happiness and eternal suffering, it is impossible to respect the beliefs of others who don’t believe as you do.

My story: Salvation. My song; the same singing to Jesus, and blessing his name.

I still hold hollow hopes for the day, my heart keeps it beat whenever I hear your name.

I always thought I’d like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I’d like it to say ‘figment.’

Patriotism. Combustible rubbish ready to the torch of any one ambitious to illuminate his name.

It is outrageous to utter the name of Jesus Christ and live in Judaism.

I never want to put my name on something that I don’t love or wouldn’t wear myself.

I wish not merely to be called Christian, but also to be Christian.