When The Poet Died His Cat Was

Death Is A Sleep That Ends Our Dreaming. Oh, That We May Be Allowed To Wake Before Death Wakes Us.

Five Enemies Of Peace Inhabit With Us - Avarice, Ambition, Envy, Anger, And Pride; If These Were To Be Banished, We Should Infallibly Enjoy Perpetual Peace.

Where Are The Numerous Constructions Erected By Agrippa, Of Which Only The Pantheon Remains? Where Are The Splendorous Palaces Of The Emperors?

All Pleasure In The World Is A Passing Dream.

Perhaps Out There, Somewhere, Someone Is Sighing For Your Absence; And With This Thought, My Soul Begins To Breathe.