I Envy No Man That Knows More

I Would Not Live Over My Hours Past ... Not Unto Cicero's Ground Because I Have Lived Them Well, But For Fear I Should Live Them Worse.

Not To Be Content With Life Is The Unsatisfactory State Of Those Which Destroy Themselves; Who Being Afraid To Live, Run Blindly Upon Their Own Death, Which No Man Fears By Experience.

I Have Tried If I Could Reach That Great Resolution . . . To Be Honest Without A Thought Of Heaven Or Hell.

A Diamond, Which Is The Hardest Of Stones, Not Yielding Unto Steel, Emery Or Any Other Thing, Is Yet Made Soft By The Blood Of A Goat.

What Then Is The Wisdom Of The Times Called Old? Is It The Wisdom Of Gray Hairs? No. It Is The Wisdom Of The Cradle.