From Good Thoughts in Bad Times and Other Papers, by Thomas Fuller
No malice of man can antedate my end a minute, whilst my Maker hath any work for me to do.
The mark must not choose what arrow shall be shot against it. What God sends I must receive.
It is impossible for one to look any way, and to avoid the beholding of God’s bounty. Ungrateful man! And as there is no place, so there is no time for us to sin, without being at that instant beholden to him.
May I likewise prove improved by it. Let my renewed soul, which grows out of the ashes of the old man, be a more firm fabric, and stronger structure: so shall affliction be my advantage.
LORD, many temporal matters, which I have desired, thou hast denied me; it vexed me for the present that I wanted my will; since, considering in cold blood, I plainly perceive, had that which I desired been done, I had been undone!
God’s mercy, whose providence, foreseeing that men of lead would make instruments of cruelty, did give that metal a medicinal virtue.
Thus, in the sight of our soul, heaven is discovered covered, and recovered; till, though late, at last, though slowly, surely, we arrive at the haven of our happiness.
Let me always be thus deceived to my advantage.
The doctrine seemeth to haunt my soul; whithersoever I turn, it meets me.
I see thy goodness delights to have thy favours sued for, expecting we should crave what thou intendest we should have.
It is impossible by all my pains to purge out my uncleanness; which is quickly done by the rivulet of the blood of my Saviour.
If I could as easily decline diseases as I could dislike them, I should be immortal.
LORD, how near was I to danger, yet escaped!
A person of great quality was pleased to lodge a night in my house; I durst not invite him to my family prayer, and therefore for that time omitted it.
Grant, Lord, that I may not mangle and dismember thy word, but study it entirely, comparing one place with another.
London is a library of mortality.
May I not be so curious to know what weapon shall wound me, as careful to provide the plaster of patience against it.
Music is sweetest near or over rivers, where the echo thereof is best rebounded by the water.
Hereafter, whosoever cometh within the doors shall be requested to come within the discipline of my house; if accepting my homely diet, he will not refuse my home devotion; and sitting at my table, will be entreated to kneel down by it.
Praise for pensiveness, thanks for tears, and blessing God over the floods of affliction, makes the most melodious music in the ear of Heaven.
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