The Grave Is Sooner Cloy'd

Gold Is Caesar's Treasure, Man Is God's; Thy Gold Hath Caesar's Image, And Thou Hast God's.

Rather Do What Is Nothing To The Purpose Than Be Idle; That The Devil May Find Thee Doing. The Bird That Sits Is Easily Shot, When Fliers Scape The Fowler. Idleness Is The Dead Sea That Swallows All The Virtues, And The Self-made Sepulchre Of A Living Man.

Lust Is An Immoderate Wantonness Of The Flesh, A Sweet Poison, A Cruel Pestilence; A Pernicious Poison, Which Weakeneth The Body Of Man, And Effeminateth The Strength Of The Heroic Mind.

I Wish Thee As Much Pleasure In The Reading, As I Had In The Writing.

Make Thy Recreation Servant To Thy Business, Lest Thou Become A Slave To Thy Recreation.