Do The Devils Lie? No; For Then

We All Labour Against Our Own Cure, For Death Is The Cure Of All Diseases.

I Am In No Way Facetious, Nor Disposed For The Mirth And Galliardize Of Company, Yet In One Dream I Can Compose A Whole Comedy, Behold The Action, Apprehend The Jests, And Laugh Myself Awake At The Conceits Thereof.

Had Not Almost Every Man Suffered By The Press, Or Were Not The Tyranny Thereof Become Universal, I Had Not Wanted Reason For Complaint.

Men Live By Intervals Of Reason Under The Sovereignty Of Humor And Passion.

As Sins Proceed They Ever Multiply, And Like Figures In Arithmetic, The Last Stands For More Than All That Wert Before It.