He Is Great Enough That Is His

Our Body Is A Well-set Clock, Which Keeps Good Time, But If It Be Too Much Or Indiscreetly Tampered With, The Alarm Runs Out Before The Hour.

I Will Rather Suffer A Thousand Wrongs Than Offer One. I Have Always Found That To Strive With A Superior Is Injurious; With An Equal, Doubtful; With An Inferior, Sordid And Base; With Any, Full Of Unquietness.

The Best Ground Untilled, Soonest Runs Out Into Rank Weeds. A Man Of Knowledge That Is Negligent Or Uncorrected, Cannot But Grow Wild And Godless.

Seldom Was Any Knowledge Given To Keep, But To Impart; The Grace Of This Rich Jewel Is Lost In Concealment.

Sorrows, Because They Are Lingering Guests, I Will Entertain But Moderately, Knowing That The More They Are Made Of The Longer They Will Continue: And For Pleasures, Because They Stay Not, And Do But Call To Drink At My Door, I Will Use Them As Passengers With Slight Respect. He Is His Own Best Friend That Makes The Least Of Both Of Them.