There's No More Faith In Thee Than

Doubt Is A Thief That Often Makes Us Fear To Tread Where We Might Have Won.

Hereditary Sloth Instructs Me.

I Have Been Studying How I May Compare This Prison Where I Live Unto The World; And, For Because The World Is Populous, And Here Is Not A Creature But Myself, I Cannot Do It. Yet I'll Hammer It Out.

The Sense Of Death Is Most In Apprehension, And The Poor Beetle, That We Tread Upon, In Corporal Sufferance Finds A Pang As Great As When A Giant Dies.

Death Lies On Her Like An Untimely Frost.