Perfection Is The Child Of Time.

The Idle Man Is The Devil's Cushion, On Which He Taketh His Free Ease: Who, As He Is Uncapable Of Any Good, So He Is Fitly Disposed For All Evil Motions.

No Marvel If The Worldling Escape Earthly Afflictions. God Corrects Him Not. He Is Base Born And Begot. God Will Not Do Him The Favour To Whip Him. The World Afflicts Him Not, Because It Loves Him: For Each Man Is Indulgent To His Own. God Uses Not The Rod Where He Means To Use The Word. The Pillory Or Scourge Is For Those Malefactors That Shall Escape Execution.

Every Day Is A Little Life, And Our Whole Life Is But A Day Repeated. Therefore Live Every Day As If It Would Be The Last. Those That Dare Lose A Day, Are Dangerously Prodigal; Those That Dare Misspend It Are Desperate.

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.

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.