States, As Great Engines, Move Slowly.

The Momentous Thing In Human Life Is The Art Of Winning The Soul To Good Or Evil.

Medicine Is A Science Which Hath Been (as We Have Said) More Professed Than Laboured, And Yet More Laboured Than Advanced: The Labour Having Been, In My Judgment, Rather In Circle Than In Progression. For I Find Much Iteration, But Small Addition. It Considereth Causes Of Diseases, With The Occasions Or Impulsions; The Diseases Themselves, With The Accidents; And The Cures, With The Preservation.

There Was Never Miracle Wrought By God To Convert An Atheist, Because The Light Of Nature Might Have Led Him To Confess A God.

The Speaking In A Perpetual Hyperbole Is Comely In Nothing But Love.

The Pencil Of The Holy Ghost Hath Labored More In Describing The Afflictions Of Job Than The Felicities Of Solomon.