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

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Existence Happiness Life Little Owe

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

War’s a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at.
WILLIAM COWPER

Game King Ply Subject War Wise
And natural in gesture; much impress’d Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.
WILLIAM COWPER

Address Anxious Become Change Conscious Feed Gesture Grace Guilt Impressed Messenger Much Tender
What peaceful hours I once enjoy’d! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
WILLIAM COWPER

Know Memories Pain Peaceful Pleasure Poet Poetic Sweet
In a fleshly tomb, I am buried above ground.
WILLIAM COWPER

Above Buried Flesh Ground Tomb
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
WILLIAM COWPER

Frowned Grace Judge Judging Lord Trust
Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have oft-times no connection.
WILLIAM COWPER

Being Connection Knowledge Men Mind Often Time Wisdom
Great offices will have great talents, and God gives to every man the virtue, temper, understanding, taste, that lifts him into life, and lets him fall just in the niche he was ordained to fill.
WILLIAM COWPER

Fall Giving Great Men Office Talent
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour;
WILLIAM COWPER

Feeble Grace Judging Lord People Person Sweet
Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds, Exhilirate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature.
WILLIAM COWPER

Exhilarate Languid Music Nature Rural Sight Silence Tone
God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea, and rides upon the storm.
WILLIAM COWPER

Beach God Moving Mysterious Perform Wonder
The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose.
WILLIAM COWPER

Comes Happiness Only Ourselves Purpose Squandering
Remorse begets reform.
WILLIAM COWPER

Allow Beget Reform Remorse
Solitude, seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave; a sepulchre in which the living lie, where all good qualities grow sick and die
WILLIAM COWPER

Good Grow Living Lying Quality Sanctuary Sick Solitude
Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.
WILLIAM COWPER

Affection Black Dwell Skin White
Tea – the cups that cheer but not inebriate.
WILLIAM COWPER

Cheer Cup Drinking Inebriate Tea
A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
WILLIAM COWPER

Atheism Dear Heretic Regard Something

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