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No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.
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No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one autumnal face.
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Death be not proud, though some have called thee
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Men have conceived a twofold use of sleep; it is a refreshing of the body in this life, and a preparing of the soul for the next.
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