How Shall We Expect Charity Towards Others,

Art Is The Perfection Of Nature, ... Nature Is The Art Of God.

The Long Habit Of Living Indisposeth Us For Dying.

I Could Be Content That We Might Procreate Like Trees, Without Conjunction, Or That We Were Any Way To Perpetuate The World Without This Trivial And Vulgar Way Of Coition; It Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life.

Light That Makes Things Seen, Makes Some Things Invisible.

We Term Sleep A Death By Which We May Be Literally Said To Die Daily; In Fine, So Like Death, I Dare Not Trust It Without My Prayers.