We All Labour Against Our Own Cure,

There Is No Royal Road Or Ready Way To Virtue.

Where Life Is More Terrible Than Death, It Is Then The Truest Valor To Dare To Live.

Many-have Too Rashly Charged The Troops Of Error, And Remain As Trophies Unto The Enemies Of Truth.

The Created World Is But A Small Parenthesis In Eternity.

We Term Sleep A Death, And Yet It Is Waking That Kills Us, And Destroys Those Spirits That Are The House Of Life.