[i]n The End This Shall Be For

I Have No Desire To Make Windows Into Men's Souls.

Grief Never Ends, But It Changes. It Is A Passage, Not A Place To Stay. Grief Is Not A Sign Of Weakness Nor A Lack Of Faith: It Is The Price Of Love.

The Sea, As Well As The Air, Is A Free And Common Thing To All; And A Particular Nation Cannot Pretend To Have The Right To The Exclusion Of All Others, Without Violating The Rights Of Nature And Public Usage.

I Pluck Up The Good Lissome Herbs Of Sentences By Pruning, Eat Them By Reading, Digest Them By Musing, And Lay Them Up At Length In The High Seat Of Memory.

It Is A Natural Virtue Incident To Our Sex To Be Pitiful Of Those That Are Afflicted.