There is something in us that can be without us, and will be after us, though indeed it hath no history of what it was before us, and cannot tell how it entered into us.

Light is but the shadow of God.

Half our days we pass in the shadow of the earth; and the brother of death exacteth a third part of our lives.

Men have lost their reason in nothing so much as their religion, wherein stones and clouts make martyrs.

Miserable men commiserate not themselves; bowelless unto others, and merciless unto their own bowels.

To me avarice seems not so much a vice as a deplorable piece of madness.

Every Country hath its Machiavel.