Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right, by these we reach div >>
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies. >>
He must pull out his own eyes, and see no creature, before he can say, >>
Death is an endless night so awful to contemplate that it can make us >>
Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? I >>
The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objec >>
I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to be dead, but win me, and overcome me. When I must shipwreck, I would do it in a sea, where mine impotency might have some excuse; not in a sullen weedy lake, where I could not have so much as exercise for my swimming.