That which is unjust can really profit no one; that which is just can really harm no one.
Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!
Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.
By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
God is not just the starting point of your life; he is the source of it.
In preparing the present volume, it has been the aim of the author to do full justice to the ample material at his command, and, where possible, to make the illustrations tell the main story to anatomists. The text of such a memoir may soon lose its interest, and belong to the past, but good figures are of permanent value. [Justifying elaborate illustrations in his monographs. ]
I'm not great at dealing with death, I have to say. I find death very hard: my mum, my dad, Sid Vicious. I'm not a monster; I feel it and it scares me. One death at a time, please, is all my heart will bear.
I believe aphorisms are best when first read in the wild, free from the confines of any categories.