What gnashing is not a comfort, what gnawing of the worm is not a tickling, what torment is not a marriage bed to this damnation, to be secluded eternally, eternally, eternally from the sight of God?

God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.

As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.

Enjoyment always has a spoiling, otherwise it cannot be so.

And now good morrow to our waking souls, Which watch not one another out of fear; For love, all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room, an everywhere. Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown, Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.

To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent; to a competent I must answer.

God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.