The sum of things there is no power can change, For naught exists outside, to which can flee Out of the world matter of any kind, Nor forth from which a fresh supply can spring, Break in upon the founded world, and change Whole nature of things, and turn their motions about.
If the matter of death is reduced to sleep and rest, what can there be so bitter in it, that any one should pine in eternal grief for the decease of a friend?
Death is nothing to us, it matters not one jot, since the nature of the mind is understood to be mortal.
We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing, since things require a seed to start from.