I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

Everything is beautiful in its own way. Exuberance is beauty.

Both read the Bible day and night, but thou read black where I read white.

He who wants, but doesn't act, is a pest.

He who would do good to another must do it in minute particulars.

He who loves his enemies betrays his friends; this surely is not what Jesus meant.

Better to shun the bait than struggle in the snare.