Death Comes Equally To Us All, And

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

Oh Do Not Die, For I Shall Hate All Women So, When Thou Art Gone.

Sleep Is Pain's Easiest Salve

God Made Sun And Moon To Distinguish The Seasons, And Day And Night; And We Cannot Have The Fruits Of The Earth But In Their Seasons. But God Hath Made No Decrees To Distinguish The Seasons Of His Mercies. In Paradise The Fruits Were Ripe The First Minute, And In Heaven It Is Always Autumn. His Mercies Are Ever In Their Maturity.

But I Do Nothing Upon Myself, And Yet I Am My Own Executioner.