The Artful Injury, Whose Venomed Dart Scarce

Anger Is The Common Refuge Of Insignificance. People Who Feel Their Character To Be Slight, Hope To Give It Weight By Inflation: But The Blown Bladder At Its Fullest Distention Is Still Empty.

Repentance Is Not Completed By A Single Act, It Must Be Incorporated Into Our Mind, Till It Become A Fixed State, Arising From A Continual Sense Of Our Need Of It.

Pleasure Is By Much The Most Laborious Trade I Know, Especially For Those Who Have Not A Vocation To It.

How Short Is Human Life! The Very Breath Which Frames My Words Accelerates My Death.

Yes, Thou Art Ever Present, Power Divine; Not Circumscribed By Time, Nor Fixed By Space, Confined To Altars, Nor To Temples Bound. In Wealth, In Want, In Freedom, Or In Chains, In Dungeons Or On Thrones, The Faithful Find Thee.