Let then no doubt, Celinda, touch, Much less your fairest mind invade: Were not our souls immortal made Our equal loves can make them such. - Edward Herbert, 1st Baron Herbert of Cherbury

There [is] no little vigour and force added to words, when they are delivered in a neat and fine way, and somewhat out of the ordinary road, common and dull language relishing more of the clown than the gentleman. But herein also affectation must be avoided; it being better for a man by a native and clear eloquence to express himself, than by those words which may smell either of the lamp or inkhorn.

He that cannot forgive others breaks the bridge over which he must pass himself, for every man hath need to be forgiven.

Now that the April of your youth adorns
The garden of your face.