Therefore For Spirits, I Am So Far

The Discourses Of The Table Among True Loving Friends Are Held In Strict Silence.

The Service Of Love Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life, Nor Is There Anything That Will More Deject His Cool'd Imagination, When He Shall Consider What An Odd And Unworthy Piece Of Folly He Hath Committed.

Nor Do They Speak Properly Who Say That Time Consumeth All Things; For Time Is Not Effective, Nor Are Bodies Destroyed By It.

Many-have Too Rashly Charged The Troops Of Error, And Remain As Trophies Unto The Enemies Of Truth.

I Could Be Content That We Might Procreate Like Trees, Without Conjunction, Or That We Were Any Way To Perpetuate The World Without This Trivial And Vulgar Way Of Coition; It Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life.