Study Prophecies When They Are Become Histories.

Sleep Is A Death, O Make Me Try By Sleeping, What It Is To Die, And As Gently Lay My Head On My Grave, As Now My Bed.

Yes, Even Amongst Wiser Militants, How Many Wounds Have Been Given, And Credits Slain, For The Poor Victory Of An Opinion, Or Beggarly Conquest Of A Distinction.

God Hath Varied The Inclinations Of Men According To The Variety Of Actions To Be Performed.

He Is Rich Who Hath Enough To Be Charitable.

Let Age, Not Envy, Draw Wrinkles On Thy Cheeks.