Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?

There is no health; physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.

The sun must not set upon anger, much less will I let the sun set upon the anger of God towards me.

This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.

Religion is not a melancholy, the spirit of God is not a damper.

As God loves a cheerful giver, so he also loves a cheerful taker. Who takes hold of his gifts with a glad heart.