Evil, be thou my good.

The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burthensome, still paying, still to owe; Forgetful what from him I still receivd, And understood not that a grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and dischargd; what burden then?

A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.

True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.

What wisdom can there be to choose, what continence to forbear without the knowledge of evil? He that can apprehend and consider vice with all her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that which is truly better, he is the true wayfaring Christian.

Long is the way and hard, that out of hell leads up to light.

Our state cannot be severed, we are one, One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.