Nothing Doth So Fool A

It Is Not The Bee's Touching On The Flowers That Gathers The Honey, But Her Abiding For A Time Upon Them, And Drawing Out The Sweet.

Death Did Not First Strike Adam, The First Sinful Man, Nor Cain, The First Hypocrite, But Abel, The Innocent And Righteous. The First Soul That Met With Death, Overcame Death; The First Soul That Parted From Earth Went To Heaven. Death Argues Not Displeasure, Because He Whom God Loved Best Dies First, And The Murderer Is Punished With Living.

Try To Be Of Some Use To Others.

Sorrows, Because They Are Lingering Guests, I Will Entertain But Moderately, Knowing That The More They Are Made Of The Longer They Will Continue: And For Pleasures, Because They Stay Not, And Do But Call To Drink At My Door, I Will Use Them As Passengers With Slight Respect. He Is His Own Best Friend That Makes The Least Of Both Of Them.

The Malcontent Is Neither Well, Full Nor Fasting; And Though He Abounds With Complaints, Yet Nothing Dislikes Him But The Present; For What He Condemns While It Was, Once Passed, He Magnifies And Strives To Recall It Out Of The Jaw Of Time. What He Hath He Seeth Not, His Eyes Are So Taken Up With What He Wants; And What He Sees He Careth Not For, Because Be Cares So Much For That Which Is Not.