Women Do Most Delight In Revenge.

Gardens Were Before Gardeners, And But Some Hours After The Earth.

For The World, I Count It Not An Inn, But A Hospital; And A Place Not To Live, But To Die In.

I Had Rather Stand The Shock Of A Basilisk Than The Fury Of A Merciless Pen.

I Believe The World Grows Near Its End, Yet Is Neither Old Nor Decayed, Nor Will Ever Perish Upon The Ruins Of Its Own Principles.

We Term Sleep A Death, And Yet It Is Waking That Kills Us, And Destroys Those Spirits That Are The House Of Life.