O Lady! We Receive But What We

Centres, Or Centre-pieces Of Wood, Are Put By Builders Under An Arch Of Stone While It Is In The Process Of Construction Till The Keystone Is Put In. Just Such Is The Use Satan Makes Of Pleasures To Construct Evil Habits Upon; The Pleasure Lasts Till The Habit Is Fully Formed; But That Done The Habit May Stand Eternal. The Pleasures Are Sent For Firewood, And The Hell Begins In This Life.

Farce Is Nearer Tragedy In Its Essence Than Comedy Is.

Force Yourself To Reflect On What You Read, Paragraph By Paragraph.

Remorse Is As The Heart In Which It Grows; If That Be Gentle, It Drops Balmy Dews Of True Repentance; But If Proud And Gloomy, It Is The Poison Tree, That Pierced To The Inmost, Weeps Only Tears Of Poison.

Perhaps 'tis Pretty To Force Together Thoughts So All Unlike Each Other; To Mutter And Mock A Broken Charm, To Dally With Wrong That Does No Harm.