We should be wary what persecution we raise against the living labors of public men, how we spill that seasoned life of man, preserved and stored up in books, since we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed, sometimes a martyrdom; and if it extend to the whole impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes at the ethereal and fifth essence, the breath of reason itself; slays an immortality rather than a life.

Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.

And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons.

Peace hath her victories, no less renowned than War.

What am I pondering, you ask? So help me God, immortality.

God shall be all in all.

Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric, That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence.