To Be Nameless In Worthy Deeds Exceeds

There Is Surely A Piece Of Divinity In Us, Something Was Before The Elements, And Owes No Homage Unto The Sun.

He Is Like To Be Mistaken Who Makes Choice Of A Covetous Man For A Friend, Or Relieth Upon The Reed Of Narrow And Poltroon Friendship. Pitiful Things Are Only To Be Found In The Cottages Of Such Breasts; But Bright Thoughts, Clear Deeds, Constancy, Fidelity, Bounty And Generous Honesty Are The Gems Of Noble Minds, Wherein (to Derogate From None) The True, Heroic English Gentleman Hath No Peer.

Half Our Days We Pass In The Shadow Of The Earth; And The Brother Of Death Exacteth A Third Part Of Our Lives.

Suicide Is Not To Fear Death, But Yet To Be Afraid Of Life. It Is A Brave Act Of Valour To Contemn Death; But When Life Is More Terrible Than Death, It Is Then The Truest Valour To Dare To Live; And Herein Religion Hath Taught Us A Noble Example, For All The Valiant Acts Of Curtius, Scarvola, Or Codrus, Do Not Parallel Or Match That One Of Job.

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.