Gravestones Tell Truth Scarce Forty Years.

Every Country Hath Its Machiavel.

I Can Hardly Thinke There Was Any Scared Into Heaven; They Go The Surest Way To Heaven Who Would Serve God Without A Hell; Other Mercenaries, That Crouch Unto Him In Feare Of Hell, Though They Terme Themselves Servants, Are Indeed But The Slaves Of The Almighty.

All Things Are Artificial, For Nature Is The Art Of God.

Had Not Almost Every Man Suffered By The Press, Or Were Not The Tyranny Thereof Become Universal, I Had Not Wanted Reason For Complaint.

I Can Cure The Gout Or Stone In Some, Sooner Than Divinity, Pride, Or Avarice In Others.