The Vices We Scoff At In Others

As For Those Wingy Mysteries In Divinity, And Airy Subtleties In Religion, Which Have Unhinged The Brains Of Better Heads, They Never Stretched The Pia Mater Of Mine; Methinks There Be Not Impossibilities Enough In Religion For An Active Faith.

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.

The World, Which Took Six Days To Make, Is Likely To Take Us Six Thousand Years To Make Out.

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

Suicide Is Not To Fear Death, But Yet To Be Afraid Of Life. It Is A Brave Act Of Valour To Contemn Death; But When Life Is More Terrible Than Death, It Is Then The Truest Valour To Dare To Live; And Herein Religion Hath Taught Us A Noble Example, For All The Valiant Acts Of Curtius, Scarvola, Or Codrus, Do Not Parallel Or Match That One Of Job.