We All Labour Against Our Own Cure,

Grave-stones Tell Truth Scarce Forty Years. Generations Pass While Families Last Not Three Oaks.

There Is Nothing Strictly Immortal, But Immortality. Whatever Hath No Beginning May Be Confident Of No End.

Art Is The Perfection Of Nature, ... Nature Is The Art Of God.

For My Part, I Have Ever Believed, And Do Now Know, That There Are Witches.

I Could Be Content That We Might Procreate Like Trees, Without Conjunction, Or That We Were Any Way To Perpetuate The World Without This Trivial And Vulgar Way Of Coition; It Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life.