Solitude, The Sly Enemy That Doth Separate

Nature Never Set Forth The Earth In So Rich Tapestry As Divers Poets Have Done; Neither With Pleasant Rivers, Fruitful Trees, Sweet-smelling Flowers, Nor Whatsoever Else May Make The Too-much-loved Earth More Lovely; Her World Is Brazen, The Poets Only Deliver A Golden.

Sweet Food Of Sweetly Uttered Knowledge.

You Will Never Live To My Age Without You Keep Yourselves In Breath With Exercise, And In Heart With Joyfulness.

For The Uttering Sweetly And Properly The Conceit Of The Mind, English Hath It Equally With Any Other Tongue In The World.

I Am No Herald To Inquire Into Men's Pedigree; It Sufficeth Me If I Know Their Virtues.