Death Is An Ascension To

Can There Be Worse Sickness, Than To Know That We Are Never Well, Nor Can Be So?

If Every Gnat That Flies Were An Archangel, All That Could But Tell Me That There Is A God; And The Poorest Worm That Creeps Tells Me That.

Solitude Is A Torment Which Is Not Threatened In Hell Itself.

Pleasure Is None, If Not Diversified.

In Heaven It Is Always Autumn.