There are mystically in our faces certain characters which carry in them the motto of our souls, wherein he that cannot read may read our natures.

Content may dwell in all stations. To be low but above contempt may be high enough to be happy.

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

Grave-stones tell truth scarce forty years. Generations pass while families last not three oaks.

Study prophecies when they are become histories.

There is music wherever there is harmony, order and proportion; and thus far we may maintain the music of the spheres; for those well ordered motions, and regular paces, though they give no sound unto the ear, yet to the understanding they strike a note most full of harmony.

And surely, he that hath taken the true Altitude of Things, and rightly calculated the degenerate state of this Age, is not like to envy those that shall live in the next, much less three or four hundred Years hence, when no Man can comfortably imagine what Face this World will carry.