Every one of his opinions appears to himself to be written with sunbeams.

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

Logic helps us to strip off the outward disguise of things, and to behold and judge of them in their own nature.

Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small: Love so amazing, so divine Demands my soul, my life, my all.

For Satan always finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.

A dogmatical spirit inclines a man to be censorious of his neighbors. Every one of his opinions appears to him written, as it were, with sunbeams, and he grows angry that his neighbors do not see it in the same light. He is tempted to disdain his correspondents as men of low and dark understandings because they do not believe what he does.

In Job and the Psalms we shall find more sublime ideas, more elevated language, than in any of the heathen versifiers of Greece or Rome.