A Slowness To Applaud Betrays A Cold

There Is Scarcely Any Fault In Another Which Offends Us More Than Vanity, Though Perhaps There Is None That Really Injures Us So Little.

Outward Attacks And Troubles Rather Fix Than Unsettle The Christian, As Tempests From Without Only Serve To Root The Oak Faster; While An Inward Canker Will Gradually Rot And Decay It.

Wisdom Views With An Indifferent Eye All Finite Joys, All Blessings Born To Die.

The Soul On Earth Is An Immortal Guest, Compelled To Starve At An Unreal Feast: A Spark, Which Upward Tends By Nature's Force: A Stream Diverted From Its Parent Source; A Drop Dissever'd From The Boundless Sea; A Moment, Parted From Eternity; A Pilgrim Panting For The Rest To Come; An Exile, Anxious For His Native Home.

A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.