Petrarch Quotes
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Five enemies of peace inhabit with us - avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride; if these were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace.
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I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.
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Gold, silver, jewels, purple garments, houses built of marble, groomed estates, pious paintings, caparisoned steeds, and other things of this kind offer a mutable and superficial pleasure; books give delight to the very marrow of one's bones. They speak to us, consult with us, and join with us in a living and intense intimacy.
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Alack our life, so beautiful to see, With how much ease life losest, in a day, What many years with pain and toil amassed!
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And men go about to wonder at the heights of the mountains, and the mighty waves of the sea, and the wide sweep of rivers, and the circuit of the ocean, and the revolution of the stars, but themselves they consider not.
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Death is a sleep that ends our dreaming. Oh, that we may be allowed to wake before death wakes us.
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For though I am a body of this earth, my firm desire is born from the stars.
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When the poet died his cat was put to death and mummified.
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I looked back at the summit of the mountain, which seemed but a cubit high in comparison with the height of human contemplation, were in not too often merged in the corruptions of the earth.
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I saw the tracks of angels in the earth: the beauty of heaven walking by itself on the world.
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In my younger days I struggled constantly with an overwhelming but pure love affair - my only one, and I would have struggled with it longer had not premature death, bitter but salutary for me, extinguished the cooling flames. I certainly wish I could say that I have always been entirely free from desires of the flesh, but I would be lying if I did.
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Often on earth the gentlest heart is fain To feed and banquet on another's woe.
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An equal doom clipp'd Time's blest wings of peace.
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Go, grieving rimes of mine, to that hard stone Whereunder lies my darling, lies my dear, And cry to her to speak from heaven's sphere.
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There is no lighter burden, nor more agreeable, than a pen. Other pleasures fail us or wound us while they charm, but the pen we take up rejoicing and lay down with satisfaction, for it has the power to advantage not only its lord and master, but many others as well, even though they be far away - sometimes, indeed, though they be not born for thousands of years to come.
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To be able to say how much love, is love but little.
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All pleasure in the world is a passing dream.
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A good death does honour to a whole life.
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Where are the numerous constructions erected by Agrippa, of which only the Pantheon remains? Where are the splendorous palaces of the emperors?
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Often have I wondered with much curiosity as to our coming into this world and what will follow our departure.
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Continued work and application form my soul's nourishment. So soon as I commenced to rest and relax I should cease to live.
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It may be only glory that we seek here, but I persuade myself that, as long as we remain here, that is right. Another glory awaits us in heaven and he who reaches there will not wish even to think of earthly fame.
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Love is the crowning grace of humanity, the holiest right of the soul, the golden link which binds us to duty and truth, the redeeming principle that chiefly reconciles the heart to life, and is prophetic of eternal good.
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He loves but lightly who his love can tell.