Occupation: Poet Birth: July 20, 1304 Death: July 19, 1374
It is more honorable to be raised to a throne than to be born to one. Fortune bestows the one, merit obtains the other..
Love is the crowning grace of humanity..
You keep to your own ways and leave mine to me..
What name to call thee by, O virgin fair, I know not, for thy looks are not of earth And more than mortal seems thy countenances.
Wanting is not enough, long and you attain it..
Perhaps out there, somewhere, someone is sighing for your absence; and with this thought, my soul begins to breathe..
I have taken pride in others, never in myself..
It may be only glory that we seek here, but I persuade myself that, as long as we remain here, that is right. Another glory awaits us in heaven and h….
Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together..
A short cut to riches is to subtract from our desires..
In my younger days I struggled constantly with an overwhelming but pure love affair - my only one, and I would have struggled with it longer had not ….
Who naught suspects is easily deceived..
From thought to thought, from mountain peak to mountain. Love leads me on; for I can never still My trouble on the world's well beaten ways..
Love is the crowning grace of humanity, the holiest right of the soul, the golden link which binds us to duty and truth, the redeeming principle that….
Books can warm the heart with friendly words and counsel, entering into a close relationship with us which is articulate and alive.
Five enemies of peace inhabit with us - avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride; if these were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual….
To begin with myself, then, the utterances of men concerning me will differ widely, since in passing judgment almost every one is influenced not so m….
And men go about to wonder at the heights of the mountains, and the mighty waves of the sea, and the wide sweep of rivers, and the circuit of the oce….
For death betimes is comfort, not dismay, and who can rightly die needs no delay..
Whyle I was abowte to chaunge myn olde lyff-- What sorowe I suffred, dyseese, angre and stryff, Cracchynge myn here, my chekys all totare, Wrythynge ….
Alack our life, so beautiful to see, With how much ease life losest, in a day, What many years with pain and toil amassed!.