For God's Sake Hold Your Tongue, And

In The First Minute That My Soul Is Infused, The Image Of God Is Imprinted In My Soul; So Forward Is God In My Behalf, And So Early Does He Visit Me.

I Count All That Part Of My Life Lost Which I Spent Not In Communion With God, Or In Doing Good.

And Now Good Morrow To Our Waking Souls, Which Watch Not One Another Out Of Fear; For Love, All Love Of Other Sights Controls, And Makes One Little Room, An Everywhere. Let Sea-discoverers To New Worlds Have Gone, Let Maps To Other, Worlds On Worlds Have Shown, Let Us Possess One World, Each Hath One, And Is One.

Contemplative And Bookish Men Must Of Necessity Be More Quarrelsome Than Others, Because They Contend Not About Matter Of Fact, Nor Can Determine Their Controversies By Any Certain Witnesses, Nor Judges. But As Long As They Go Towards Peace, That Is Truth, It Is No Matter Which Way.

What Gnashing Is Not A Comfort, What Gnawing Of The Worm Is Not A Tickling, What Torment Is Not A Marriage Bed To This Damnation, To Be Secluded Eternally, Eternally, Eternally From The Sight Of God?