Love Is Blind, It Stops Lovers Seeing

Thyself And Thy Belongings Are Not Thine Own So Proper, As To Waste Thyself Upon Thy Virtues, They On Thee. Heaven Doth With Us As We With Torches Do, Not Light Them For Themselves; For If Our Virtues Did Not Go Forth Of Us 't Were All Alike As If We Had Them Not. Spirits Are Not Finely Touch'd But To Fine Issues; Nor Nature Never Lends The Smallest Scruple Of Her Excellence, But, Like A Thrifty Goddess, She Determines Herself The Glory Of A Creditor - Both Thanks And Use.

There's Rosemary And Rue. These Keep Seeming And Savor All The Winter Long. Grace And Remembrance Be To You.

Greatness Knows Itself.

Since My Dear Soul Was Mistress Of Her Choice And Could Of Men Distinguish Her Election, Sh'ath Sealed Thee For Herself.

But Men May Construe Things After Their Fashion, Clean From The Purpose Of The Things Themselves.