If Ever Any Beauty I Did See,

Sleep Is Pain's Easiest Salve, And Doth Fulfil All Offices Of Death, Except To Kill.

Commemoration Of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 He Was The Word That Spake It; He Took The Bread And Brake It; And What That Word Did Make It I Do Believe, And Take It.

The Flea, Though He Kill None, He Does All The Harm He Can.

As Peace Is Of All Goodness, So War Is An Emblem, A Hieroglyphic, Of All Misery.

Be More Than Man, Or Thou'rt Less Than An Ant.