Our good purposes foreslowed are become our tormentors upon our deathbed.

As you see in a pair of bellows, there is a forced breath without life, so in those that are puffed up with the wind of ostentation, there may be charitable words without works.

What I have done is worthy of nothing but silence and forgetfulness, but what God has done for me is worthy of everlasting and thankful memory.

...Covetousness, looking more at what we would have than at what we have.

Earthly greatness is a nice thing, and requires so much chariness in the managing, as the contentment of it cannot requite.

God loveth adverbs; and cares not how good, but how well.

Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave.