Sleep Is A Death, O Make Me

How Shall We Expect Charity Towards Others, When We Are Uncharitable To Ourselves?

Be Deaf Unto The Suggestions Of Tale-bearers, Calumniators, Pick-thank Or Malevolent Detractors, Who, While Quiet Men Sleep, Sowing The Tares Of Discord And Division, Distract The Tranquillity Of Charity And All Friendly Society. These Are The Tongues That Set The World On Fire--cankerers Of Reputation, And, Like That Of Jonah's Gourd, Wither A Good Name In A Single Night.

The Severe Schools Shall Never Laugh Me Out Of The Philosophy Of Hermes, That This Visible World Is But A Picture Of The Invisible, Wherein As In A Portrait, Things Are Not Truly, But In Equivocal Shapes, And As They Counterfeit Some Real Substance In That Invisible Fabric.

Nature Proceeds Little By Little From Things Lifeless To Animal Life In Such A Way That It Is Impossible To Determine The Exact Line Ure Hath Made One World, And Art Another. In Brief, All Things Are Artificial; For Nature Is The Art Of God.

It Is We That Are Blind, Not Fortune.