The Idle Man Is The Devil's Cushion.

This Field Is So Spacious That It Were Easy For A Man To Lose Himself In It; And If I Should Spend All My Pilgrimage In This Walk, My Time Would Sooner End Than My Way.

Recreation Is Intended To The Mind As Whetting Is To The Scythe, To Sharpen The Edge Of It, Which Otherwise Would Grow Dull And Blunt,--as Good No Scythe As No Edge.

Virtues Go Ever In Troops; They Go So Thick, That Sometimes Some Are Hid In The Crowd; Which Yet Are, But Appear Not.

Heaven Hath Many Tongues To Talk Of It, More Eyes To Behold It, But Few Hearts That Rightly Affect It.

God Loveth Adverbs; And Cares Not How Good, But How Well.