I Am A Little World Made Cunningly.

The Distance From Nothing To A Little, Is Ten Thousand Times More, Than From It To The Highest Degree In This Life.

I Would Not That Death Should Take Me Asleep. I Would Not Have Him Merely Seize Me, And Only Declare Me To Be Dead, But Win Me, And Overcome Me. When I Must Shipwreck, I Would Do It In A Sea, Where Mine Impotency Might Have Some Excuse; Not In A Sullen Weedy Lake, Where I Could Not Have So Much As Exercise For My Swimming.

Women Are Like The Arts, Forced Unto None, Open To All Searchers, Unprized, If Unknown.

But Think That We Are But Turned Aside To Sleep.

I Shall Die Reading; Since My Book And A Grave Are So Near.