It is said to be the manner of hypochondriacs to change often their physician.

Pain dies quickly, and lets her weary prisoners go; the fiercest agonies have shortest reign.

Christ taught an astonishing thing about physical death: not merely that it is an experience robbed of its terror but that as an experience it does not exist at all. To "sleep in Christ," like one that wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

Truth gets well if she is run over by a locomotive, while error dies of lockjaw if she scratches her finger.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join, The innumerable caravan which moves, To that mysterious realm where each shall take, His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged by his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed, By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch, About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

A stable, changeless state, 'twere cause indeed to weep.

All great poets have been men of great knowledge.