“Live and die in Aristotle’s works.”

You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.

My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns, / Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.

Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit, His waxen wings did mount above his reach, And, melting, Heavens conspir’d his overthrow.

Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike

Things that are not at all, are never lost.

Honour is purchas’d by the deeds we do.

Religion! O Diabole! Fie, I am asham’d, however that I seem, To think a word of such simple sound, Of such great matter should be made the ground.

Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.

Strike up the drum and march courageously.

All places shall be hell that are not heaven.

Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed In one self place, for where we are is hell, And where hell is there must we ever be.

Is it not passing brave to be a King and ride in triumph through Persepolis?

O soul, be changed into little waterdrops, / And fall into the ocean, ne’er be found!

Why should you love him whom the world hates so? Because he love me more than all the world.

Nothing violent, oft have I heard tell, can be permanent.

The fear of God is not the beginning of wisdom. The fear of God is the death of wisdom. Skepticism and doubt lead to study and investigation, and investigation is the beginning of wisdom.

The sudden death at 51 of James Gandolfini is intolerable.

If that vital spark that we find in a grain of wheat can pass unchanged through countless deaths and resurrections, will the spirit of man be unable to pass from this body to another?

When my father died, the money he left us would have dried up within a year were it not for my mother. We might very well have ended up on welfare.

The purpose of man is like the purpose of a pollywog – to wiggle along as far as he can without dying; or, to hang to life until death takes him.

How many must die before we can really have a free and true and peaceful society?

When the mind rests into its silent nature, it realise that love don’t come and go. Love can’t die.

There is tonic in the things that men do not love to hear. Free speech is to a great people what the winds are to oceans and where free speech is stopped miasma is bred, and death comes fast.