“Perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things.”
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The body is a house of many windows: there we all sit, showing ourselves and crying on the passers-by to come and love us.
There is no progress whatever. Everything is just the same as it was thousands, and tens of thousands, of years ago. The outward form changes. The essence does not change.
Give us grace and strength to forbear and to persevere. Give us courage and gaiety and the quiet mind, spare to us our friends, soften to us our enemies.
If a man loves the labour of his trade, apart from any question of success or fame, the gods have called him.