A Little Water Makes A Sea, A

Whosoever Enjoys Not This Life, I Count Him But An Apparition, Though He Wear About Him The Sensible Affections Of Flesh. In These Moral Acceptions, The Way To Be Immortal Is To Die Daily.

As For Those Wingy Mysteries In Divinity, And Airy Subtleties In Religion, Which Have Unhinged The Brains Of Better Heads, They Never Stretched The Pia Mater Of Mine; Methinks There Be Not Impossibilities Enough In Religion For An Active Faith.

Since Women Do Most Delight In Revenge, It May Seem But Feminine Manhood To Be Vindictive.

Life Is A Pure Flame And We Live By An Invisible Sun Within Us.

There Is No Man Alone, Because Every Man Is A Microcosm, And Carries The Whole World About Him.