Though It Be In The Power Of

What Then Is The Wisdom Of The Times Called Old? Is It The Wisdom Of Gray Hairs? No. It Is The Wisdom Of The Cradle.

There Is A Rabble Among The Gentry As Well As The Commonalty; A Sort Of Plebeian Heads Whose Fancy Moves With The Same Wheel As These Men?in The Same Level With Mechanics, Though Their Fortunes Do Sometimes Gild Their Infirmities And Their Purses Compound For Their Follies.

Life Itself Is But The Shadow Of Death, And Souls Departed But The Shadows Of The Living.

Whosoever Enjoys Not This Life, I Count Him But An Apparition, Though He Wear About Him The Sensible Affections Of Flesh. In These Moral Acceptions, The Way To Be Immortal Is To Die Daily.

There Is No Royal Road Or Ready Way To Virtue.