It Is Not Death, It

If I Were Of The Trade, I Should Naturalize Art As Much As They "artialize" Nature.

All I Say Is By Way Of Discourse, And Nothing By Way Of Advice. I Should Not Speak So Boldly If It Were My Due To Be Believed.

Love To His Soul Gave Eyes; He Knew Things Are Not As They Seem. The Dream Is His Real Life; The World Around Him Is The Dream.

After A Tongue Has Once Got The Knack Of Lying, It Is Not To Be Imagined How Impossible Almost It Is To Reclaim It. Whence It Comes To Pass, That We See Some Men, Who Are Otherwise Very Honest, So Subject To This Vice.

He That First Likened Glory To A Shadow Did Better Than He Was Aware Of. They Are Both Of Them Things Excellently Vain. Glory Also, Like A Shadow, Goes Sometimes Before The Body, And Sometimes In Length Infinitely Exceeds It.