Charity But how shall we expect charity towards others, when we are uncharitable to ourselves? Charity begins at home, is the voice of the world; yet is every man his greatest enemy, and, as it were, his own executioner.

Half our days we pass in the shadow of the earth; and the brother of death exacteth a third part of our lives.

Whosoever enjoys not this life, I count him but an apparition, though he wear about him the sensible affections of flesh. In these moral acceptions, the way to be immortal is to die daily.

Age doth not rectify, but incurvate our natures, turning bad dispositions into worser habits.

Were the happiness of the next world is as closely apprehended as the felicities of this, it were a martyrdom to live.

Lord deliver me from myself.

Flattery is a juggler, and no kin unto sincerity.