“Biscuits, biscuits: wherefore art thou biscuits? Hath mine beloved hidden thou once more from mine eyes? Alas, mine coffee cries out. Lo!”

“Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.”

“Love me, beloved; Hades and DeathShall vanish away like a frosty breath;These hands, that now are at home in thine,Shall clasp thee again, if thou art still mine;And thou shalt be mine, my spirit's bride,In the ceaseless flow of eternity's tide,If the truest love thy heart can knowMeet the truest love that from mine can flow.Pray God, beloved, for thee and me,That our sourls may be wedded eternally.”

“Thou sodden-witted lord! thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.”

“Lo, thou, my Love, art fair;Myself have made thee so;Yea, thou art fair indeed,Wherefore thou shalt not needIn beauty to despair;For I accept thee so,For fair.[excerpt from "Christ to His Spouse"]”

“Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.”