Thomas Dekker

We are ne'er like angels till our passion dies.

The calmest husbands make the stormiest wives.

A mask of gold hides all deformities.

What a heaven is love! O what a hell!

This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.

Surely man was not created to be an idle fellow; he was not set in this universal orchard to stand still as a tree.

Arguments, like children, should be like the subject that begets them.

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, Smiles awake you when you rise.

O what a heaven is love! O what a hell!

This principle is old, but true as fate, Kings may love treason, but the traitor hate.

Cast away care, he that loves sorrow Lengthens not a day, nor can buy tomorrow; Money is trash, and he that will spend it, Let him drink merrily, fortune will send it.

Honest labor bears a lovely face.

Were there no women, men might live like gods.

This age thinks better of a gilded fool Than of a threadbare saint in wisdom's school.

Age is like love, it cannot be hid.

Sleep is that golden chain that ties health and our bodies together.