There Is No So Wretched And Coarse

We Endeavor More That Men Should Speak Of Us, Than How And What They Speak, And It Sufficeth Us That Our Name Run In Men's Mouths, In What Manner Soever. It Stemma That To Be Known Is In Some Sort To Have Life And Continuance In Other Men's Keeping.

Is It Not A Noble Farce, Wherein Kings, Republics, And Emperors Have For So Many Ages Played Their Parts, And To Which The Whole Vast Universe Serves For A Theatre?

A Tutor Should Not Be Continually Thundering Instruction Into The Ears Of His Pupil, As If He Were Pouring It Through A Funnel, But, After Having Put The Lad, Like A Young Horse, On A Trot, Before Him, To Observe His Paces, And See What He Is Able To Perform, Should, According To The Extent Of His Capacity, Induce Him To Taste, To Distinguish, And To Find Out Things For Himself; Sometimes Opening The Way, At Other Times Leaving It For Him To Open; And By Abating Or Increasing His Own Pace, Accommodate His Precepts To The Capacity Of His Pupil.

It Is Far More Probable That Our Senses Should Deceive Us, Than That An Old Woman Should Be Carried Up A Chimney On A Broom Stick; And That It Is Far Less Astonishing That Witnesses Should Lie, Than That Witches Should Perform The Acts That Were Alleged.

The Continuous Work Of Our Life Is To Build Death.