For Whom He Means To Make An

I Account This Body Nothing But A Close Prison To My Soul; And The Earth A Larger Prison To My Body. I May Not Break Prison Till I Be Loosed By Death; But I Will Leave It, Not Unwillingly,when I Am Loosed.

...covetousness, Looking More At What We Would Have Than At What We Have.

It Is Of No Small Commendation To Manage A Little Well. To Live Well In Abundance Is The Praise Of The Estate, Not Of The Person. I Will Study More How To Give A Good Account Of My Little, Than How To Make It More.

For Every Bad There Might Be A Worse; And When One Breaks His Leg Let Him Be Thankful It Was Not His Neck.

It Is Not The Bee's Touching On The Flowers That Gathers The Honey, But Her Abiding For A Time Upon Them, And Drawing Out The Sweet.