It Is A Sober Truth That People

Small Habits Well Pursued Betimes May Reach The Dignity Of Crimes.

Everything Which Relates To God Is Infinite. We Must Therefore, While We Keep Our Hearts Humble, Keep Our Aims High. Our Highest Services Are Indeed But Finite, Imperfect. But As God Is Unlimited In Goodness, He Should Have Our Unlimited Love.

The Soul On Earth Is An Immortal Guest, Compelled To Starve At An Unreal Feast: A Spark, Which Upward Tends By Nature's Force: A Stream Diverted From Its Parent Source; A Drop Dissever'd From The Boundless Sea; A Moment, Parted From Eternity; A Pilgrim Panting For The Rest To Come; An Exile, Anxious For His Native Home.

How Short Is Human Life! The Very Breath Which Frames My Words Accelerates My Death.

The Constant Habit Of Perusing Devout Books Is So Indispensable, That It Has Been Termed The Oil Of The Lamp Of Prayer. Too Much Reading, However, And Too Little Meditation, May Produce The Effect Of A Lamp Inverted; Which Is Extinguished By The Very Excess Of That Ailment, Whose Property Is To Feed It.