It Is To Be Doubted Whether He

Shall I Speak Truly What I Now See Below? The World Is All A Carkass, Smoak And Vanity, The Shadow Of A Shadow, A Play And In One Word, Just Nothing.

The Boundary Of Man Is Moderation. When Once We Pass That Pale Our Guardian Angel Quits His Charge Of Us.

It Is To Be Doubted Whether He Will Ever Find The Way To Heaven Who Desires To Go Thither Alone.

A Combed Writing Will Cost Both Sweat And The Rubbing Of The Brain. And Combed I Wish It, Not Frizzled Or Curled.

Honesty Is A Warrant Of Far More Safety Than Fame.