Whoever Does Not Accept My

Sleep Is A Most Useful And Most Salutary Operation Of Nature. Scarcely Any Minor Annoyance Angers Me More Than The Being Suddenly Awakened Out Of A Pleasant Slumber. I Understand That In Italy They Torture Poor People By Depriving Them Of Sleep. `tis A Torture That Cannot Long Be Endured.

Christians Fight Best On Their Knees. Whatever Good May Be Done Is Done And Brought About By Prayer.

Great People And Champions Are Special Gifts Of God, Whom He Gives And Preserves; They Do Their Work, And Achieve Great Actions, Not With Vain Imaginations, Or Cold And Sleepy Cogitations, But By Motion Of God.

When My Heart Is Cold And I Cannot Pray As I Should I Scourge Myself With The Thought Of The Impiety And Ingratitude Of My Enemies, The Pope And His Accomplices And Vermin, And Zwingli, So That My Heart Swells With The Righteous Indignation And Hatred And I Can Say With Warmth And Vehemence: 'holy Be Thy Name, Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done!' And The Hotter I Grow The More Ardent Do My Prayers Become.

The Defects Of A Preacher Are Soon Spied.