My hopes rose high and methought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust.
Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air.
I hope I have: I am able now, methinks, Out of a fortitude of soul I feel, To endure more miseries, and greater far, Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.