Art is the most passionate orgy within man's grasp.

If I lose at play, I blaspheme; if my fellow loses, he blasphemes. So, God is always the loser.

We can die by it, if not live by love, And if unfit for tombs and hearse Our legend be, it will be fit for verse; And if no peace of chronicle we prove, We'll build in sonnet pretty rooms; As well a well wrought urne becomes The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs.

Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.

It is too little to call man a little world; Except God, man is a diminutive to nothing.