He Is Rich Who Hath Enough To

For There Is A Music Wherever There Is A Harmony, Order, Or Proportion, And Thus Far We May Maintain The Music Of The Spheres.

Let The Fruition Of Things Bless The Possession Of Them, And Take No Satisfaction In Dying But Living Rich.

The Service Of Love Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life, Nor Is There Anything That Will More Deject His Cool'd Imagination, When He Shall Consider What An Odd And Unworthy Piece Of Folly He Hath Committed.

The Mortalist Enemy Unto Knowledge, And That Which Hath Done The Greatest Execution Unto Truth, Has Been A Preemptory Adhesion Unto Authority.

We Censure Others But As They Disagree From That Humor Which We Fancy Laudable In Ourselves, And Commend Others But For That Wherein They Seem To Quadrate And Consent With Us.