Must I be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease, while others fought to win the prize and sailed through bloody seas?

There's not a plant or flower below but makes Thy glories known, And clouds arise, and tempests blow by order from Thy throne; While all that borrows life from Thee is ever in Thy care; And everywhere that we can be, Thou, God art present there.

Fancy and humour, early and constantly indulged in, may expect an old age overrun with follies.

Love is amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.

Do not expect to arrive at certainty in every subject which you pursue. There are a hundred things wherein we mortals. . . must be content with probability, where our best light and reasoning will reach no farther.

The passions are the gales of life; and it is religion only that can prevent them from rising into a tempest.

Forbid it Lord that I should boast, save in the death of Christ, my God: All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood.