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For Satan always finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.
Isaac Watts
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Isaac Watts
Age: 74 †
Born: 1674
Born: July 17
Died: 1748
Died: November 25
Hymnwriter
Philosopher
Poet
Theologian
Writer
Southampton
Hampshire
Isaac Watts
Stills
Still
Mischief
Always
Idleness
Laziness
Idle
Satan
Finds
Hands
More quotes by Isaac Watts
Do not expect to arrive at certainty in every subject which you pursue. There are a hundred things wherein we mortals. . . must be content with probability, where our best light and reasoning will reach no farther.
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Academical disputation gives vigor and briskness to the mind thus exercised, and relieves the languor of private study and meditation.
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Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.
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When general observations are drawn from so many particulars as to become certain and indisputable, these are jewels of knowledge.
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A hermit who has been shut up in his cell in a college has contracted a sort of mould and rust upon his soul.
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How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower!
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A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun.
Isaac Watts
Let dogs delight to bark and bite, for God hath made them so.
Isaac Watts
I have been there, and still would go 'T is like a little heaven below.
Isaac Watts
So, when a raging fever burns, We shift from side to side by turns And 't is a poor relief we gain To change the place, but keep the pain.
Isaac Watts
Custom and authority are no sure evidence of truth.
Isaac Watts
To God the Father, God the Son, And God the Spirit, Three in One, Be honour, praise, and glory given By all on earth, and all in heaven.
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What's amiss I'll strive to mend,And endure what can't be mended.
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In Job and the Psalms we shall find more sublime ideas, more elevated language, than in any of the heathen versifiers of Greece or Rome.
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Salvation, O the joyful sound! 'Tis pleasure to our ears A sov'reign balm for ev'ry wound, A cordial for our fears.
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I love the soul that dares tread the temptations of his years beneath his youthful feet.
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Learning to trust is one of life's most difficult tasks.
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There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.
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Thoughts, like old vultures, prey upon their heart-strings
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When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride.
Isaac Watts