Not To Be Content With Life Is

There Is No Such Thing As Solitude, Nor Anything That Can Be Said To Be Alone And By Itself But God, Who Is His Own Circle, And Can Subsist By Himself.

I Am Not So Much Afraid Of Death, As Ashamed Thereof, 'tis The Very Disgrace And Ignominy Of Our Natures.

The World, Which Took Six Days To Make, Is Likely To Take Us Six Thousand Years To Make Out.

The Mortalist Enemy Unto Knowledge, And That Which Hath Done The Greatest Execution Unto Truth, Has Been A Preemptory Adhesion Unto Authority.

The Service Of Love Is The Foolishest Act A Wise Man Commits In All His Life, Nor Is There Anything That Will More Deject His Cool'd Imagination, When He Shall Consider What An Odd And Unworthy Piece Of Folly He Hath Committed.