Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short; And done, we straight repent us of the sport: Let us not rush blindly on unto it, Like lustful beasts, that only know to do it: For lust will languish, and that heat decay, But thus, thus, keeping endless Holy-

Pleasure the servant, Virtue looking on.

Drink today, and drown all sorrow; You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow; Best, while you have it, use your breath; There is no drinking after death

Follow a shadow, it still flies you,
Seem to fly it, it will pursue.
So court a mistress, she denies you;
Let her alone, she will court you.
Say, are not women truly, then
Styled but the shadows of us men?

It is not growing like a tree / In bulk, doth make men better be.

living only for the moment, savouring the moon, the snow, the cherry blossoms, and the maple leaves, singing songs, drinking wine, and diverting oneself in simply floating, unconcerned by the prospect of imminent poverty, buoyant and carefree, like a gourd carried along with the current of the river...