The Suburbs Of Folly Is Vain Mirth,

No Man's Condition Is So Base As His; None More Accurs'd Than He; For Man Esteems Him Hateful, 'cause He Seems Not What He Is; God Hates Him, 'cause He Is Not What He Seems; What Grief Is Absent, Or What Mischief Can Be Added To The Hate Of God And Man?

If Thou Neglectest Thy Love To Thy Neighbor, In Vain Thou Professest Thy Love To God; For By Thy Love To God, The Love To Thy Neighbor Is Begotten, And By The Love To Thy Neighbor Thy Love To God Is Nourished.

Reason Can Discover Things Only Near,--sees Nothing That's Above Her.

Temper Your Enjoyments With Prudence, Lest There Be Written On Your Heart That Fearful Word 'satiety.'

What Treasures Here Do Mammon's Sons Behold! Yet Know That All That Which Glitters Is Not Gold.