Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, the mere materials with which wisdom builds, till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, does but encumber whom it seems to enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much; wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
They whom truth and wisdom lead, can gather honey from a weed.
Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain.
Built God a church and laughed His word to scorn.
All we behold is miracle.
Strange as it may seem, the most ludicrous lines I ever wrote have been written in the saddest mood.