Sow An Action, Reap A Habit.

Long Habit So Reconciles Us To Almost Any Thing, That The Grossest Improprieties Cease To Strike Us When They Once Make A Part Of The Common Course Of Action.

How Short Is Human Life! The Very Breath Which Frames My Words Accelerates My Death.

He Who Finds He Has Wasted A Shilling May By Diligence Hope To Fetch It Up Again; But No Repentance Or Industry Can Ever Bring Back One Wasted Hour.

Yes, Thou Art Ever Present, Power Divine; Not Circumscribed By Time, Nor Fixed By Space, Confined To Altars, Nor To Temples Bound. In Wealth, In Want, In Freedom, Or In Chains, In Dungeons Or On Thrones, The Faithful Find Thee.

To Those Who Know Thee Not, No Words Can Paint! And Those Who Know Thee, Know All Words Are Faint!