We Are Time's Subjects, And Time Bids

But Virtue Never Will Be Mov'd, Though Lewdness Court It In A Shape Of Heaven.

My Thoughts Are Whirled Like A Potter's Wheel; I Know Not Where I Am Nor What I Do.

Love And Meekness, Lord, Become A Churchman Better Than Ambition: Win Straying Souls With Modesty Again, Cast None Away.

Stones Have Been Known To Move And Trees To Speak.

Superfluity Comes Sooner By White Hairs, But Competency Lives Longer.