Wine And The Sun Will

Hurt, He'll Never Be Hurt--he's Made To Hurt Other People.

Don't Let Us Rejoice In Punishment, Even When The Hand Of God Alone Inflicts It. The Best Of Us Are But Poor Wretches, Just Saved From Shipwreck. Can We Feel Anything But Awe And Pity When We See A Fellow-passenger Swallowed By The Waves?

Her Own Misery Filled Her Heart—there Was No Room In It For Other People's Sorrow.

In Travelling I Shape Myself Betimes To Idleness And Take Fools' Pleasure

When God Makes His Presence Felt Through Us, We Are Like The Burning Bush: Moses Never Took Any Heed What Sort Of Bush It Was—he Only Saw The Brightness Of The Lord.