Pain, indeed, makes the time seem to go on very slowly; an hour seems like a day and a day like a week.

If we did not feel the bitterness of his anger, we would not so sweetly relish His love.

If you saw a wounded person, torn and mangled, on the highway, the sight of so deplorable an object would fill you with compassion; the sight of your friends under the disease I am now speaking ought to move you much more, for it is tearing them to pieces every moment. Every moment it preys upon their vitals, and they are continually dying, yet cannot die.