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

Acquaint yourself with your own ignorance.

Roses grow on thorns and honey wears a sting.

Thoughts, like old vultures, prey upon their heart-strings

There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.

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

It is not to be expected that we should love God supremely if we have not known him to be more desirable than all other things.