Young Men Mend Not Their Sight By

As States Subsist In Part By Keeping Their Weaknesses From Being Known, So Is It The Quiet Of Families To Have Their Chancery And Their Parliament Within Doors, And To Compose And Determine All Emergent Differences There.

Be More Than Man, Or Thou'rt Less Than An Ant.

Love's Mysteries In Souls Do Grow, But Yet The Body Is His Book.

At The Round Earth's Imagined Corners, Blow Your Trumpets, Angels, And Arise, Arise From Death, You Numberless Infinities Of Souls **** All Whom War, Dearth, Age, Agues, Tyrannies, Despair, Law, Chance, Hath Slain.

All Our Life Is But A Going Out To The Place Of Execution, To Death.