Lingering labors come to naught.

Not where I breathe, but where I love, I live.

Where sin was hatch'd, let tears now wash the nest, Where life was lost, recover life with cries.

I wealthiest am when richest in remorse.

The path to Heaven is narrow, rough and full of wearisome and trying ascents, nor can it be trodden without great toil; and therefore wrong is their way, gross their error, and assured their ruin who, after the testimony of so many thousands of saints, will not learn where to settle their footing.

What thought can think, another thought can mend.

God gave Himself to you: give yourself to God.