“How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.”

The Spirit breathes upon the Word and brings the truth to sight.

An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as when it stands.

If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.

Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything.

What peaceful hours I once enjoy’d! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.

Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame; He hides behind a magisterial air He own offences, and strips others’ bare.

Pride made the devil, and the devil made sin; So God made a cole-pit to put the devil in.

God made bees, and bees made honey, God made man, and man made money,

Blind unbelief is sure to err, And scan his work in vain; God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.

But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.

The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose.

I seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar; / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy’s door.

Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your sons to love it, too.

Men deal with life as children with their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away.

Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.

He finds his fellow guilty of a skin Not color’d like his own, and having pow’r T’ enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.