Persecution Is A Bad And Indirect Way

But Man Is A Noble Animal, Splendid In Ashes, And Pompous In The Grave, Solemnizing Nativities And Deaths With Equal Lustre, Nor Omitting Ceremonies Of Bravery, In The Infamy Of His Nature. Life Is A Pure Flame, And We Live By An Invisible Sun Within Us.

I Believe The World Grows Near Its End, Yet Is Neither Old Nor Decayed, Nor Will Ever Perish Upon The Ruins Of Its Own Principles.

Half Our Days We Pass In The Shadow Of The Earth; And The Brother Of Death Exacteth A Third Part Of Our Lives.

To Ruminate Upon Evils, To Make Critical Notes Upon Injuries, And Be Too Acute In Their Apprehensions, Is To Add Unto Our Own Tortures, To Feather The Arrows Of Our Enemies, To Lash Ourselves With The Scorpions Of Our Foes, And To Resolve To Sleep No More.

... Indeed, What Reason May Not Go To School To The Wisdom Of Bees, Ants, And Spiders? What Wise Hand Teacheth Them To Do What Reason Cannot Teach Us? Ruder Heads Stand Amazed At Those Prodigious Pieces Of Nature, Whales, Elephants, Dromedaries, And Camels; These, I Confess, Are The Colossuses And Majestick Pieces Of Her Hand; But In These Narrow Engines There Is More Curious Mathematieks; And The Civility Of These Little Citizens More Neatly Sets Forth The Wisdom Of Their Maker.