Who Over-refines His Argument Brings

There Is No Lighter Burden, Nor More Agreeable, Than A Pen.

Man Has No Greater Enemy Than Himself. I Have Acted Contrary To My Sentiments And Inclination; Throughout Our Whole Lives We Do What We Never Intended, And What We Proposed To Do, We Leave Undone.

For Death Betimes Is Comfort, Not Dismay, And Who Can Rightly Die Needs No Delay.

When The Poet Died His Cat Was Put To Death And Mummified.

For Though I Am A Body Of This Earth, My Firm Desire Is Born From The Stars.