There Is No Passion So Much Transports

We Must Learn To Endure What We Cannot Avoid. Our Life Is Composed, Like The Harmony Of The World, Of Contrary Things, Also Of Different Tones, Sweet And Harsh, Sharp And Flat, Soft And Loud. If A Musician Liked Only One Kind, What Would He Have To Say?

Lovers Are Angry, Reconciled, Entreat, Thank, Appoint, And Finally Speak All Things, By Their.

I Know That The Arms Of Friendship Are Long Enough To Reach From The One End Of The World To The Other

I Neither Complain Of The Past, Nor Do I Fear The Future.

Fortune, To Show Us Her Power In All Things, And To Abate Our Presumption, Seeing She Could Not Make Fools Wise, Has Made Them Fortunate.