The Affections Cannot Keep Their Youth Any

What Potent Blood Hath Modest May.

The Noblest Ministry Of Nature Is To Stand As The Apparition Of God.

Fear, Craft And Avarice Cannot Rear A State.

Let No One Honour Me With Tears, Or Bury Me With Lamentation. Why? Because I Fly Hither And Thither, Living In The Mouths Of Me.

Nothing Is Dead: Men Feign Themselves Dead, And Endure Mock Funerals And Mournful Obituaries, And There They Stand Looking Out Ofthe Window, Sound And Well, In Some New And Strange Disguise.