A Wise Man Is Out Of The

Yet Is Every Man His Greatest Enemy, And, As It Were, His Own Executioner.

But Man Is A Noble Animal, Splendid In Ashes, And Pompous In The Grave, Solemnizing Nativities And Deaths With Equal Lustre, Nor Omitting Ceremonies Of Bravery, In The Infamy Of His Nature. Life Is A Pure Flame, And We Live By An Invisible Sun Within Us.

Let Him Have The Key Of Thy Heart, Who Hath The Lock Of His Own.

I Cannot Tell By What Logic We Call A Toad, A Bear, Or An Elephant Ugly; They Being Created In Those Outward Shapes And Figures Which Best Express The Actions Of Their Inward Forms.

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.