Think Not Silence The Wisdom

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.

It Is We That Are Blind, Not Fortune.

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

A Wise Man Is Out Of The Reach Of Fortune.

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.