A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.

We Do Not So Much Want Books For Good People, As Books Which Will Make Bad Ones Better.

Our Merciful Father Has No Pleasure In The Sufferings Of His Children; He Chastens Them In Love; He Never Inflicts A Stroke He Could Safely Spare; He Inflicts It To Purify As Well As To Punish, To Caution As Well As To Cure, To Improve As Well As To Chastise.

When We Read, We Fancy We Could Be Martyrs; When We Come To Act, We Cannot Bear A Provoking Word.

There Is Scarcely Any Fault In Another Which Offends Us More Than Vanity, Though Perhaps There Is None That Really Injures Us So Little.

All Desire The Gifts Of God, But They Do Not Desire God.