Life and Existence

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

You can do very little with faith, but you can do nothing without it.

To live is like to love—all reason is against it, and all healthy instinct for it.

An apology for the Devil: It must be remembered that we have only heard one side of the case. God has written all the books.

It has been said that though God cannot alter the past, historians can; it is perhaps because they can be useful to Him in this respect that He tolerates their existence.

O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us

Nae man can tether time or tide.

Nae man can tether time or tide.

My love she’s but a lassie yet.

John Anderson my jo, John,

Superstition is the religion of feeble minds.

The age of chivalry is gone.—That of sophisters, economists, and calculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever.

The age of chivalry is gone.—That of sophisters, economists, and calculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever.

A state without the means of some change is without the means of its conservation.

Custom reconciles us to everything.

No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear.

Nothing in progression can rest on its original plan. We may as well think of rocking a grown man in the cradle of an infant.

So he passed over, and the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

So he passed over, and the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

I am going to my Fathers, and tho’ with great difficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword, I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought his battles, who will now be my rewarder.

I am going to my Fathers, and tho’ with great difficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword, I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me, that I have fought his battles, who will now be my rewarder.

Then I saw that there was a way to Hell, even from the gates of heaven.

A foul Fiend coming over the field to meet him; his name is Apollyon.

Down into the valley of Humiliation.