It Is Not The Bee's Touching On

The Blood That Is Once Inflamed With Wine Is Apt To Boil With Rage.

There Is No Enemy Can Hurt Us But By Our Own Hands. Satan Could Not Hurt Us, If Our Own Corruption Betrayed Us Not. Afflictions Cannot Hurt Us Without Our Own Impatience. Temptations Cannot Hurt Us, Without Our Own Yieldance. Death Could Not Hurt Us, Without The Sting Of Our Own Sins. Sins Could Not Hurt Us, Without Our Own Impenitence.

Surely The Mischief Of Hypocrisy Can Never Be Enough Inveighed Against. When Religion Is In Request, It Is The Chief Malady Of The Church, And Numbers Die Of It; Though Because It Is A Subtle And Inward Evil, It Be Little Perceived. It Is To Be Feared There Are Many Sick Of It, That Look Well And Comely In God's Outward Worship, And They May Pass Well In Good Weather, In Times Of Peace; But Days Of Adversity Are Days Of Trial.

There Is No Word Or Action But May Be Taken With Two Hands,--either With The Right Hand Of Charitable Construction, Or The Sinister Interpretation Of Malice And Suspicion; And All Things Do Succeed As They Are Taken. To Construe An Evil, Action Well Is But A Pleasing And Profitable Deceit To Myself; But To Misconstrue A Good Thing Is A Treble Wrong,--to Myself, The Action, And The Author.

Ambition Is Torment Enough For An Enemy; For It Affords As Much Discontentment In Enjoying As In Want, Making Men Like Poisoned Rats, Which, When They Have Tasted Of Their Bane, Cannot Rest Till They Drink, And Then Can Much Less Rest Till They Die