To Love God, Which Was A Thing

In Utopia, Where Every Man Has A Right To Everything, They All Know That If Care Is Taken To Keep The Public Stores Full, No Private Man Can Want Anything; For Among Them There Is No Unequal Distribution, So That No Man Is Poor, None In Necessity; And Though No Man Has Anything, Yet They Are All Rich; For What Can Make A Man So Rich As To Lead A Serene And Cheerful Life, Free From Anxieties.

On His Mounting The Scaffold To Be Beheaded: 'i Pray You, Master Lieutenant, See Me Safely Up, And For My Coming Down, Let Me Shift For Myself.' To The Executioner: 'pick Up Thy Spirits, Man, And Be Not Afraid To Do Thyne Office; My Neck Is Very Short; Take Heed, Therefore Thou Strike Not Awry, For Saving Of Thyne Honesty.'

Instead Of Inflicting These Horrible Punishments, It Would Be Far More To The Point To Provide Everyone With Some Means Of Livelihood, So That Nobody's Under The Frightful Necessity Of Becoming, First A Thief, And Then A Corpse.

In The First Place, Most Princes Apply Themselves To The Arts Of War, In Which I Have Neither Ability Nor Interest, Instead Of To The Good Arts Of Peace. They Are Generally More Set On Acquiring New Kingdoms By Hook Or By Crook Than On Governing Well Those That They Already Have.

As For Rosemary, I Let It Run All Over My Garden Walls, Not Only Because My Bees Love It But Because It Is The Herb Sacred To Remembrance And To Friendship, Whence A Sprig Of It Hath A Dumb Language.