A Faint Endeavor Ends In

If Faith Produce No Works, I See That Faith Is Not A Living Tree.

It Is The Large Aggregate Of Small Things Perpetually Occurring That Robs Me Of All My Time. The Expense Of Learning To Read Might Have Been Spared In My Education, For I Never Read.

People Talk As If The Act Of Death Made A Complete Change In The Nature, As Well As In The Condition Of Man. Death Is The Vehicle To Another State Of Being, But Possesses No Power To Qualify Us For That State. In Conveying Us To A New World It Does Not Give Us A New Heart.

Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human Things, And Half Our Misery From Our Foibles Springs.

We Contrive To Make Revenge Itself Look Like Religion. We Call Down Thunder On Many A Head Under Pretence, That Those On Whom We Invoke It Are God's Enemies, When Perhaps We Invoke It Because They Are Ours.