Flattery Is A Juggler, And

To Ruminate Upon Evils, To Make Critical Notes Upon Injuries, And Be Too Acute In Their Apprehensions, Is To Add Unto Our Own Tortures, To Feather The Arrows Of Our Enemies, To Lash Ourselves With The Scorpions Of Our Foes, And To Resolve To Sleep No More.

We Term Sleep A Death By Which We May Be Literally Said To Die Daily; In Fine, So Like Death, I Dare Not Trust It Without My Prayers.

To Me Avarice Seems Not So Much A Vice As A Deplorable Piece Of Madness.

He Who Must Needs Have Company, Must Needs Have Sometimes Bad Company.

There Is Music Wherever There Is Harmony, Order And Proportion; And Thus Far We May Maintain The Music Of The Spheres; For Those Well Ordered Motions, And Regular Paces, Though They Give No Sound Unto The Ear, Yet To The Understanding They Strike A Note Most Full Of Harmony.