“When I lie waking all alone,Recounting what I have ill done,My thoughts on me then tyrannize,Fear and sorrow me surprise,Whether I tarry still or go,Methinks the time moves very slow,All my griefs to this are jolly,Naught so sad as melancholy.'Tis my sole plague to be alone,I am a beast, a monster grown,I will no light nor company,I find it now my misery.The scene is turn'd, my joys are gone,Fear, discontent, and sorrows come.All my griefs to this are folly,Naught so fierce as melancholy.”

“When I die, I shall then have my greatest grief and my greatest joy; my greatest grief, that I have done so little for Jesus, and my greatest joy, that Jesus has done so much for me.”

“I find no peace, and all my war is done,I fear and hope; I burn and freeze like ice;I fly above the wind yet can I not arise;And naught I have and all the world I seize on.That looseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison,And holdeth me not, yet can I scape nowise;Nor letteth me live nor die at my devise,And yet of death it giveth none occasion.Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain;I desire to perish, and yet I ask health;I love another, and thus I hate myself;I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain.Likewise displeaseth me both death and lifeAnd my delight is causer of this strife.”

“Procrastination is my sin. It brings me naught but sorrow. I know that I should stop it. In fact, I will--tomorrow”

“I look around myself wildly, my heart bursting with grief and fear and joy. I am leaving, but I will take this place and its stories with me wherever I go.”

“I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go.”