Art is the perfection of nature, ... nature is the art of God.

I could be content that we might procreate like trees, without conjunction, or that we were any way to perpetuate the world without this trivial and vulgar way of coition; it is the foolishest act a wise man commits in all his life.

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

We censure others but as they disagree from that humor which we fancy laudable in ourselves, and commend others but for that wherein they seem to quadrate and consent with us.

Not to be content with Life is the unsatisfactory state of those which destroy themselves; who being afraid to live, run blindly upon their own Death, which no Man fears by Experience.

A man may be in as just possession of the truth as of a city, and yet be forced to surrender.

There is musick, even in the beauty and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument.