It Is Not Sin That Kills The

The Blood That Is Once Inflamed With Wine Is Apt To Boil With Rage.

Death Borders Upon Our Birth, And Our Cradle Stands In The Grave.

Society Is The Atmosphere Of Souls; And We Necessarily Imbibe From It Something Which Is Either Infectious Or Healthful.

And, If I Were So Low That I Accounted Myself The Worst Of All, Yet Some Would Account Themselves In Worse Case.

It Is Not He That Reads Most, But He That Meditates Most On Divine Truth, That Will Prove The Choicest, Wisest, Strongest Christian.