Rough Diamonds May Sometimes Be Mistaken For

I Could Never Divide Myself From Any Man Upon The Difference Of An Opinion, Or Be Angry With His Judgment For Not Agreeing With Me In That From Which Perhaps Within A Few Days I Should Dissent Myself.

To Call Ourselves A Microcosme, Or Little World, I Thought It Onely A Pleasant Trope Of Rhetorick, Till My Neare Judgement And Second Thoughts Told Me There Was A Reall Truth Therein: For First Wee Are A Rude Masse, And In The Ranke Of Creatures, Which Only Are, And Have A Dull Kinde Of Being Not Yet Priviledged With Life, Or Preferred To Sense Or Reason; Next We Live The Life Of Plants, The Life Of Animals, The Life Of Men, And At Last The Life Of Spirits, Running On In One Mysterious Nature Those Five Kinds Of Existence, Which Comprehend The Creatures Not Onely Of World, But Of The Universe.

Grave-stones Tell Truth Scarce Forty Years. Generations Pass While Families Last Not Three Oaks.

... Indeed, What Reason May Not Go To School To The Wisdom Of Bees, Ants, And Spiders? What Wise Hand Teacheth Them To Do What Reason Cannot Teach Us? Ruder Heads Stand Amazed At Those Prodigious Pieces Of Nature, Whales, Elephants, Dromedaries, And Camels; These, I Confess, Are The Colossuses And Majestick Pieces Of Her Hand; But In These Narrow Engines There Is More Curious Mathematieks; And The Civility Of These Little Citizens More Neatly Sets Forth The Wisdom Of Their Maker.

There Is No Man Alone, Because Every Man Is A Microcosm, And Carries The Whole World About Him.