Can There Be Worse Sickness, Than To

One Short Sleep Past, We Wake Eternally, And Death Shall Be No More; Death, Thou Shalt Die.

Great Sorrows Cannot Speak.

I Observe The Physician With The Same Diligence As The Disease.

The Whole Life Of Christ Was A Continual Passion; Others Die Martyrs But Christ Was Born A Martyr. He Found A Golgotha Even In Bethlehem, Where He Was Born; For To His Tenderness Then The Straws Were Almost As Sharp As The Thorns After, And The Manger As Uneasy At First As His Cross At Last. His Birth And His Death Were But One Continual Act, And His Christmas Day And His Good Friday Are But The Evening And Morning Of One And The Same Day. And As Even His Birth Is His Death, So Every Action And Passage That Manifests Christ To Us Is His Birth, For Epiphany Is Manifestation.

O Lord, Never Suffer Us To Think That We Can Stand By Ourselves, And Not Need Thee.