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When a man loves a woman
Teen Angel
Wait til the midnight hour
The lonely bull

Jesu, joy of man's desiring
I call you friend
by Marty Goetz

No man is an island

by John Donne

Perchance he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that he knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me and see my state may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that.

All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath afflicion enough that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction.

If a man carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.

Edmund Burke: Evil triumphs when good men do nothing
Burke Page

Some Fruits of Solitude

by William Penn{1644-1718}

Unless virtue guide us, our choice must be wrong.
And yet we could hurt no man that we believe loves us.
Our losses are often made Judgments by our Guilt, and Mercies by our repentance.
We must needs disorder ourselves, if we only look at our Losses. But if we consider how little we deserve what is left, our Passion will cool, and our Murmurs will turn to thanksgiving.
Nor can we fall below the arms of God, how low soever it be we fall.
Do not be deceived with the first appearance of things, but give thy self Time to be in the right.
Nay, how ugly do our own failings look to us in the Persons of others, which yet we see not in our selves.
But nothing in us unlike Him, can please him.

William Penn was the founder of Pennsylvania. He was born the son of an English Admiral. Penn served in the navy and studied law. He was imprisoned after becoming a quaker in 1667 for an attack on the orthodoxy of the day. While Penn was in prison, he wrote No Cross, No Crown. Penn came to America in 1699 but only stayed two years. He died in England in 1718.
Geologist