To Me Avarice Seems Not So Much

There Is No Man Alone, Because Every Man Is A Microcosm, And Carries The Whole World About Him.

And Surely, He That Hath Taken The True Altitude Of Things, And Rightly Calculated The Degenerate State Of This Age, Is Not Like To Envy Those That Shall Live In The Next, Much Less Three Or Four Hundred Years Hence, When No Man Can Comfortably Imagine What Face This World Will Carry.

Times Before You, When Even The Living Men Were Antiquities; When The Living Might Exceed The Dead, And To Depart This World, Could Not Be Properly Said, To Go Unto The Greater Number.

That Miracles Have Been, I Do Believe; That They May Yet Be Wrought By The Living, I Do Not Deny: But Have No Confidence In Those Which Are Fathered On The Dead.

Yet Is Every Man His Greatest Enemy, And, As It Were, His Own Executioner.