“Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglectMy love should kindle to inflamed respect.”

“Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglectMy love should kindle to inflamed respect.Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:Not all the dukes of waterish BurgundyCan buy this unprized precious maid of me.Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:Thou losest here, a better where to find.”

“Tis well to borrow from the good and the great; 'Tis wise to learn: 'tis God-like to create!”

“Loving God alone, we unify our nature in single constancy; God himself kindles a love that burns but never consumes.”

“If you will not have God (and He is a jealous God), you should pay your respects to Hitler or Stalin.”

“Tis very strange men should be so fond of being wickeder than they are.”