Where Evil May Be Done, It Is

Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human Things, And Half Our Misery From Our Foibles Springs; Since Life's Best Joys Consist In Peace And Ease, And Though But Few Can Serve, Yet All May Please; On, Let Th' Ungentle Spirit Learn From Hence, A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.

It Is A Part Of Christianity To Convert Every Natural Talent To A Religious Use.

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.

A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.

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.