It is not the bee's touching on the flowers that gathers the honey, but her abiding for a time upon them, and drawing out the sweet.

How endless is that volume which God hath written of the world! Every creature is a letter, every day a new page.

For every bad there might be a worse; and when one breaks his leg let him be thankful it was not his neck.

Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl chain of all virtues.

It is not sin that kills the soul, but impenitence.

Virtues go ever in troops; they go so thick, that sometimes some are hid in the crowd; which yet are, but appear not.

Try to be of some use to others.