Death, Like Birth, Is One Of Nature's

The Cucumber Is Bitter? Then Throw It Out. There Are Brambles In The Path? Then Go Around. That's All You Need To Know.

If You Do The Task Before You Always Adhering To Strict Reason With Zeal And Energy And Yet With Humanity, Disregarding All Lesser Ends And Keeping The Divinity Within You Pure And Upright, As Though You Were Even Now Faced With Its Recall - If You Hold Steadily To This, Staying For Nothing And Shrinking From Nothing, Only Seeking In Each Passing Action A Conformity With Nature And In Each Word And Utterance A Fearless Truthfulness, Then The Good Life Shall Be Yours. And From This Course No Man Has The Power To Hold You Back.

Your Life Is An Expression Of All Your Thoughts.

It Is Not Fit That I Should Give Myself Pain, For I Have Never Intentionally Given Pain Even To Another.

The Universal Nature Has No External Space; But The Wondrous Part Of Her Art Is That Though She Has Circumscribed Herself, Everything Which Is Within Her Which Appears To Decay And To Grow Old And To Be Useless She Changes Into Herself, And Again Makes Other New Things From These Very Same, So That She Requires Neither Substance From Without Nor Wants A Place Into Which She May Cast That Which Decays. She Is Content Then With Her Own Space, And Her Own Matter, And Her Own Art.