Nature Abhors A Vacuum.

Death Is The Vast Perhaps.

Believe Me, 'tis A Godlike Thing To Lend; To Owe Is A Heroic Virtue.

A Certain Jollity Of Mind, Pickled In The Scorn Of Fortune.

Keep Running After A Dog And He Will Never Bite You.

When My Soul Leaves This Human Dwelling, I Will Not Consider Myself To Have Completely Died, But To Pass From One State To Another, Given That, In You And By You, I Remain In My Visible Image In This World.