He Is A Very Humble Man, That

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.

We Are Often Infinitely Mistaken, And Take The Falsest Measures, When We Envy The Happiness Of Rich And Great Men; We Know Not The Inward Canker That Eats Out All Their Joy And Delight, And Makes Them Really Much More Miserable Than Ourselves.

As The Most Generous Vine, If It Is Not Pruned, Runs Out Into Many Superfluous Stems, And Grows At Last Weak And Fruitless; So Dote The Best Man, If He Be Not Cut Short Of His Desires And Pruned With Afflictions. If It Be Painful To Bleed, It Is Worse To Wither. Let Me Be Pruned, That I May Grow, Rather Than Be Cut Up To Burn.

Christian Society Is Like A Bundle Of Sticks Laid Together, Whereof One Kindles Another. Solitary Men Have Fewest Provocations To Evil, But, Again, Fewest Incitations To Good. So Much As Doing Good Is Better Than Not Doing Evil Will I Account Christian Good-fellowship Better Than An Hermitish And Melancholy Solitariness.

Words Are As They Are Taken, And Things Are As They Are Used. There Are Even Cursed Blessings.