Ever since our first fathers by infection took this morbum sathanicum, this devilish disease, pride, of the devil, such tinder is our nature, that every little spark sets us on fire; our nature hath grown so light, that every little thing puffeth us up, and sets us aloft in our altitudes presently.

Gratitude is the praise we offer God: for teachers kind, benefactors never to be forgotten, for all who have advantaged me, by writings, sermons, converse, prayers, examples, for all these and all others which I know, which I know not, open, hidden, remembered, and forgotten.

For having wealth and wherewithal to "do good", if you do it not, talk not of faith, for you have no faith in you.

Pray we for the Clergy; that they may rightly divide, that they may rightly walk; that while they teach others, themselves may learn.

Take away, O Lord, the veil of my heart while I read the Scriptures.

Behold, O Lord, that I am indignant with myself, for my senseless, profitless, hurtful, perilous passions; that I loathe myself, for these inordinate, unseemly, deformed, false, shameful, disgraceful passions; that my confusion is daily before me, and the shame of my face hath covered me. Alas! woe, woe! O me, how long?

Two things I recognize, O Lord, in myself: Nature, which Thou hast made; Sin, which I have added.