Who winks and shuts his apprehension up.

Foul canker of fair virtuous action, Vile blaster of the freshest blooms on earth, Envys abhorred child, Detraction, I here expose, to thy all-tainting breath,…

For see, the dapple-grey coursers of the morn Beat up the light with their bright silver hoofs, And chase it through the sky.

Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety; old crotchets and most sweet closes. It shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, am…

What can we know, or what can we discern, When error chokes the windows of the mind, The diverse forms of things, how can we learn, That have been ever from ou…

An age is called Dark not because the light fails to shine, but because people refuse to see it.

There are none so blind as those who will not see.