None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she… — 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
