The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine.
Tomorrow to fresh woods, and pastures new
He's gone, and who knows how may he report Thy words by adding fuel to the flame?
How gladly would I meet mortality, my sentence, and be earth in sensible! how glad would lay me down, as in my mother's lap! There I should rest, and sleep secure.
Since good, the more Communicated, more abundant grows.
Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce Angels.
Who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe.
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.
Laws can discover sin, but not remove it.
The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven
For solitude sometimes is best society, And short retirement urges sweet return.
Wickedness is weakness.
When night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
Govern well thy appetite, lest Sin Surprise thee, and her black attendant, Death.