A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.

None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.

Tears are the noble language of eyes, and when true love of words is destitute. The eye by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.

Here a little child I stand, Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, for a benison to fall on our meat, and on us all. Amen.

Those Saints, which God loves best, The Devil tempts not least.

Buying, possessing, accumulating--this is not worldliness. But doing this in the love of it, with no love of God paramount--doing it so that thoughts of eternity and God are an intrusion--doing it so that one's spirit is secularized in the process; this is worldliness.

Like will to like, each creature loves his kind.