When The Heroes Go Off The Stage,

Thought Is Invisible Nature.

What Christian Love Cannot Do Is Effected By A Common Hatred.

Sleep Is Lovely, Death Is Better Still, Not To Have Been Born Is Of Course The Miracle.

Whatever Tears One May Shed, In The End One Always Blows One's Nose.

I Have A Most Peaceable Disposition. My Desires Are For A Modest Hut, A Thatched Roof, But A Good Bed, Good Food, Very Fresh Milk And Butter, Flowers In Front Of My Window And A Few Pretty Trees By My Door. And Should The Good Lord Wish To Make Me Really Happy, He Will Allow Me The Pleasure Of Seeing About Six Or Seven Of My Enemies Hanged Upon Those Trees.