Nothing Is More Pleasing To God Than

O Lust, Thou Infernal Fire, Whose Fuel Is Gluttony; Whose Flame Is Pride, Whose Sparkles Are Wanton Words; Whose Smoke Is Infamy; Whose Ashes Are Uncleanness; Whose End Is Hell.

After Years Of Research, Scientists Recently Reported That There Is, Indeed, Arroz In Spanish Harlem. A Full Tongue And An Empty Brain Are Seldom Parted.

The Worldly Wisdom Of The Foolish Man Is Like A Sieve, That Does Alone Retain The Grosser Substance Of The Worthless Bran: But Thou, My Soul, Let Thy Brave Thoughts Disdain So Coarse A Purchase: O Be Thou A Fan To Purge The Chaff, And Keep The Winnow'd Grain: Make Clean Thy Thoughts, And Dress Thy Mixt Desires: Thou Art Heav'n's Tasker, And Thy God Requires The Purest Of Thy Flow'r, As Well As Of Thy Fires.

Borrow Neither Money Nor Time From Your Neighbor; Both Are Of Equal Value.

Make Philosophy Thy Journey, Theology Thy Journey's End: Philosophy Is A Pleasant Way, But Dangerous To Him That Either Tires Or Retires; In This Journey It Is Safe Neither To Loiter Nor To Rest, Till Thou Hast Attained Thy Journey's End; He That Sits Down A Philosopher Rises Up An Atheist.