Quit Your Worrying!

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Page, 1916 - Worry - 262 pages
 

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Page 42 - Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or. what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment...
Page 223 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. — Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow {Kneels, I here engage my words.
Page 42 - Therefore take no thought, saying: What shall we eat? Or, what shall we drink? Or, wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek.) For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.
Page 39 - Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe: But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear; The rest may reason and welcome: 'tis we musicians know.
Page 231 - tis in my custody. Oth. Ha! lago. O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ; It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on : that cuckold lives in bliss Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger ; But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves ! Oth.
Page 42 - Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin ; yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God doth so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?
Page 2 - Serene I fold my hands and wait, Nor care for wind, or tide or sea; I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, For lo ! my own shall come to me.
Page 223 - Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons, Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste ; But, with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.
Page 181 - Now, who shall arbitrate? Ten men love what I hate, Shun what I follow, slight what I receive; Ten, who in ears and eyes Match me: we all surmise, They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul believe? Not on the vulgar mass Called "work...
Page 167 - What had I on earth to do With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly? Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel — Being — who? One who never turned his back but marched breast forward. Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, tho' right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.

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