For a crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.
It is impossible to love and to be wise.
Nuptial love makes mankind; friendly love perfects it; but wanton love corrupts and debases it.
Why should a man be in love with his fetters, though of gold?
The inquiry of truth, which is the love-making, or the wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature.
The speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but love.
There is in man's nature a secret inclination and motion towards love of others, which, if it be not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards many, and maketh men become humane and charitable, as it is seen sometimes in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind, friendly love perfecteth it, but wanton love corrupteth and embaseth it.
The stage is more beholding to love than the life of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies and now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief, sometimes like a Siren, sometimes like a Fury.
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