Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I Am Asham'd,

Nature That Framed Us Of Four Elements, Warring Within Our Breasts For Regiment, Doth Teach Us All To Have Aspiring Minds: Our Souls, Whose Faculties Can Comprehend The Wondrous Architecture Of The World, And Measure Every Wandering Planet's Course, Still Climbing After Knowledge Infinite, And Always Moving As The Restless Spheres, Wills Us To Wear Ourselves, And Never Rest, Until We Reach The Ripest Fruit Of All, That Perfect Bliss And Sole Felicity, The Sweet Fruition Of An Earthly Crown.

Accurst Be He That First Invented War.

Goodness Is Beauty In The Best Estate.

I Am Envy...i Cannot Read And Therefore Wish All Books Burned.

You Stars That Reigned At My Nativity, Whose Influence Hath Allotted Death And Hell.