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Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.

Anne Bradstreet

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Anne Bradstreet
Age: 60 †
Born: 1612
Born: March 20
Died: 1672
Died: September 16
Poet
Writer
Ann Dudley
Ann Dudley Bradstreet
Anne Dudley Bradstreet
Anne Dudley
Hard
Brawny
Consciences
Laborers
Sinners
Sinner
Conscience
Hands

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My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence. Thy love is such I can no way repay, The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
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Wisdom with an inheritance is good, but wisdom without an inheritance is better than an inheritance without wisdom.
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The world no longer lets me love, My hope and treasure are above.
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I am obnoxious to each carping tongue who says my hand a needle better fits.
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Sin and shame ever go together he that would be freed from the last must be sure to shun the company of the first.
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When I behold the heavens as in their prime, And then the earth (though old) still clad in green, The stones and trees, insensible of time, Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen
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Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending.
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If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.
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If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
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A prosperous state makes a secure Christian, but adversity makes him Consider.
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And time brings down what is both strong and tall. But plants new set to be eradicate, And buds new blown, to have so short a date, Is by his hand alone that guides nature and fate.
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Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are.
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The spring is a lively emblem of the Resurrection.
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Iron till it be thoroughly heated is incapable to be wrought so God sees good to cast some men into the furnace of affliction, and then beats them on His anvil into what frame He desires.
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Wickedness comes to its height by degrees. He that dares say of a less sin, Is it not a little one? will ere long say of a greater, Tush, God regards it not!
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Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.
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My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.
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Satan, that great angler, hath his sundry baits for sundry tempers of men, which they all catch greedily at, but few perceive the hook till it be too late.
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If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
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Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending a negligent youth is usually attended by an ignorant middle age, and both by an empty old age.
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