In Agony Or Danger, No Nature Is

It Is A Sober Truth That People Who Live Only To Amuse Themselves Work Harder At The Task Than Most People Do In Earning Their Daily Bread.

People Talk As If The Act Of Death Made A Complete Change In The Nature, As Well As In The Condition Of Man. Death Is The Vehicle To Another State Of Being, But Possesses No Power To Qualify Us For That State. In Conveying Us To A New World It Does Not Give Us A New Heart.

Of Two Evils, Had Not An Author Better Be Tedious Than Superficial! From An Overflowing Vessel You May Gather More, Indeed, Than You Want, But From An Empty One You Can Gather Nothing.

My Retirement Was Now Become Solitude; The Former Is, I Believe, The Best State For The Mind Of Man, The Latter Almost The Worst. In Complete Solitude, The Eye Wants Objects, The Heart Wants Attachments, The Understanding Wants Reciprocation. The Character Loses Its Tenderness When It Has Nothing To Strengthen It, Its Sweetness When It Has Nothing To Soothe It.

Nothing Is More Common Than To Mistake The Sign For The Thing Itself; Nor Is Any Practice More Frequent Than That Of Endeavoring To Acquire The Exterior Mark, Without Once Thinking To Labor After The Interior Grace.