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

Men that look no further than their outsides, think health an appurtenance unto life, and quarrel with their constitutions for being sick; but I that have examined the parts of man, and know upon what tender filaments that fabric hangs, do wonder that we are not always so; and considering the thousand doors that lead to death, do thank my God that we can die but once.

Many-have too rashly charged the troops of error, and remain as trophies unto the enemies of truth.

But the iniquity of oblivion blindly scattereth her poppy, and deals with the memory of men without distinction to merit of perpetuity.

The world, which took six days to make, is likely to take us six thousand years to make out.

They that endeavour to abolish vice destroy also virtue, for contraries, though they destroy one another, are yet the life of one another.

The noblest Digladiation is in the Theatre of ourselves.