Make Use Of Life While You Have

God Might Grant Us Riches, Honours, Life, And Even Health, To Our Own Hurt; For Every Thing That Is Pleasing To Us Is Not Always Good For Us. If He Sends Us Death, Or An Increase Of Sickness, Instead Of A Cure, Vvrga Tua Et Baculus, Tuus Ipsa Me Consolata Sunt. "thy Rod And Thy Staff Have Comforted Me," He Does It By The Rule Of His Providence, Which Better And More Certainly Discerns What Is Proper For Us Than We Can Do; And We Ought To Take It In Good Part, As Coming From A Wise And Most Friendly Hand.

We Are Nearer Neighbors To Ourselves Than The Whiteness Of Snow Or The Weight Of Stones Are To Us: If Man Does Not Know Himself, How Should He Know His Functions And Powers?

The Souls Of Emperors And Cobblers Are Cast In The Same Mould

When I Am Attached By Gloomy Thoughts, Nothing Helps Me So Much As Running To My Books. They Quickly Absorb Me And Banish The Clouds From My Mind.

What Kind Of Truth Is This Which Is True On One Side Of A Mountain And False On The Other?