The Discourses Of The Table Among True

The Vices We Scoff At In Others Laugh At Us Within Ourselves.

Though It Be In The Power Of The Weakest Arm To Take Away Life, It Is Not In The Strongest To Deprive Us Of Death.

Were The Happiness Of The Next World Is As Closely Apprehended As The Felicities Of This, It Were A Martyrdom To Live.

Men That Look No Further Than Their Outsides, Think Health An Appurtenance Unto Life, And Quarrel With Their Constitutions For Being Sick; But I That Have Examined The Parts Of Man, And Know Upon What Tender Filaments That Fabric Hangs, Do Wonder That We Are Not Always So; And Considering The Thousand Doors That Lead To Death, Do Thank My God That We Can Die But Once.

He Who Must Needs Have Company, Must Needs Have Sometimes Bad Company.