(death Is) A Leap Into The Dark.

Every Country Hath Its Machiavel.

Thus Is Man That Great And True Amphibium, Whose Nature Is Disposed To Live, Not Onely Like Other Creatures In Divers Elements, But In Divided And Distinguished Worlds: For Though There Be But One To Sense, There Are Two To Reason, The One Visible, The Other Invisible.

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

Age Doth Not Rectify, But Incurvate Our Natures, Turning Bad Dispositions Into Worser Habits.

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.