A heat full of coldness, a sweet full of bitterness, a pain full of pleasantness, which maketh thoughts have eyes and hearts… — John Lyly Copy Share Image
It is the eye of the master that fatteth the horse, and the love of the woman that maketh the man. — John Lyly Copy Share Image
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd At cards for kisses - Cupid paid: He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves,… — John Lyly Copy Share Image
Thou art an heyre to fayre lying, that is nothing, if thou be disinherited of learning, for better were it to thee to inherite… — John Lyly Copy Share Image
Far more seemly to have thy study full of books, than thy purse full of money. — John Lyly Copy Share Image
Maydens, be they never so foolyshe, yet beeing fayre they are commonly fortunate. — John Lyly Copy Share Image
To love women and never enjoy them, is as much to love wine and never taste it. — John Lyly Copy Share Image
