Who said “Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy!”?

“Melancholy, indeed, should be diverted by every means but drinking.”

“Melancholy is at the bottom of everything, just as at the end of all rivers is the sea. Can it be otherwise in a world where nothing lasts, where all that we have loved or shall love must die? Is death, then, the secret of life? The gloom of an eternal mourning enwraps, more or less closely, every serious and thoughtful soul, as night enwraps the universe.”

“Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie.”

“They also serve who only stand and wait.”

“Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.”

“The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n.”

“None can love freedom heartily, but good men... the rest love not freedom, but license.”

“How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!”