What gnashing is not a comfort, what gnawing of the worm is not a tickling, what torment is not a marriage bed to this damnation, to be secluded eternally, eternally, eternally from the sight of God?

Now God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the sun at noon to illustrate all shadows, as the sheaves in harvest, to fill all penuries, all occasions invite his mercies, and all times are his seasons.

The distance from nothing to a little, is ten thousand times more, than from it to the highest degree in this life.

Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.

Death is an ascension to a better library.

I observe the physician with the same diligence as the disease.

I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.