As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, wh >>
I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him mer >>
Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, >>
Then, like an old-time orator impressively he rose; I make the most of >>
Philosophy goes no further than probabilities, and in every assertion >>
Existentialism is about being a saint without God; being your own hero >>
And new Philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out; the Sun is lost, and the earth, and no mans wit can well direct him where to look for it.