A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.
WILLIAM COWPERI seem forsaken and alone, / I hear the lion roar; / And every door is shut but one, / And that is Mercy’s door.
More William Cowper Quotes
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Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
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O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.
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The bird that flutters least is longest on the wing.
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The cares of today are seldom those of tomorrow, and when we lie down at night we may safely say to most of our troubles, “Ye have done your worst, and we shall see you no more.”
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I will pray, therefore, for blessings on my friends, even though they cease to be so, and upon my enemies, though they continue such.
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And works his sovereign will. Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
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Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.
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The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
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There is mercy in every place. And mercy, encouraging thought gives even affliction a grace and reconciles man to his lot.
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God made the country, and man made the town.
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An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as when it stands.
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Variety’s the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.
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Heaven’s harmony is universal love.
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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.
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We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works die too.
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.
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Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.
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Remorse begets reform.
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A heretic, my dear sir, is a fellow who disagrees with you regarding something neither of you knows anything about.
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How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
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Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
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When nations are to perish in their sins, ’tis in the Church the leprosy begins.
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Habits are soon assumed; but when we strive to strip them off, ’tis being flayed alive.
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But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.
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Pleasure admitted in undue degree, enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
WILLIAM COWPER