Let Grace Conduct Thee To The Paths

Hath Any Wounded Thee With Injuries? Meet Them With Patience. Hasty Words Rankle The Wound; Soft Language Dresses It.

Is Not This Lily Pure? What Fuller Can Procure A White So Perfect, Spotless Clear As In This Flower Doth Appear?

False World, Thou Ly'st: Thou Canst Not Lend The Least Delight: Thy Favours Cannot Gain A Friend, They Are So Slight.

That Friendship Will Not Continue To The End Which Is Begun For An End.

The Heart Is A Small Thing, But Desireth Great Matters. It Is Not Sufficient For A Kite's Dinner, Yet The Whole World Is Not Sufficient For It.