Pleasure Is None, If Not Diversified.

To Roam Giddily, And Be Everywhere But At Home, Such Freedom Doth A Banishment Become.

Nature Hath No Goal Though She Hath Law.

We Can Die By It, If Not Live By Love, And If Unfit For Tombs And Hearse Our Legend Be, It Will Be Fit For Verse; And If No Peace Of Chronicle We Prove, We'll Build In Sonnet Pretty Rooms; As Well A Well Wrought Urne Becomes The Greatest Ashes, As Half-acre Tombs.

God Made Sun And Moon To Distinguish The Seasons, And Day And Night; And We Cannot Have The Fruits Of The Earth But In Their Seasons. But God Hath Made No Decrees To Distinguish The Seasons Of His Mercies. In Paradise The Fruits Were Ripe The First Minute, And In Heaven It Is Always Autumn. His Mercies Are Ever In Their Maturity.

Dull Sublunary Lovers' Love (whose Soul Is Sense) Cannot Admit Absence, Because It Doth Remove Those Things Which Elemented It.