William Penn

Seek not to be Rich, but Happy. The one lies in Bags, the other in Content: which Wealth can never give.

Only trust theyself, and another shall noet betray thee

The tallest trees are most in the power of the winds, and ambitious men of the blasts of fortune.

Passion is the mob of the man, that commits a riot upon his reason.

If thou wouldn’t conquer thy weakness thou must not gratify it.

The public must and will be served.

Not believing in force is the same as not believing in gravity.

Kindness, love, strength and determination personified!! Madiba reminds me that everything is possible!

The end may justify the means as long as there is something that justifies the end.

Few of us have vitality enough to make any of our instincts imperious.

I was a freethinker before I knew how to think.

Sense never fails to give them that have it, Words enough to make them understood. It too often happens in some conversations, as in Apothecary Shops, that those Pots that are Empty, or have Things of small Value in them, are as gaudily Dress’d as those that are full of precious Drugs. They that soar too high, often fall hard, making a low and level Dwelling preferable. The tallest Trees are most in the Power of the Winds, and Ambitious Men of the Blasts of Fortune. Buildings have need of a good Foundation, that lie so much exposed to the Weather.

There is nothing so unthinkable as thought, unless it be the entire absence of thought.

Be present in all things and thankful for all things.

We have a lot of anxieties, and one cancels out another very often.

If your determination is fixed, I do not counsel you to despair. Few things are impossible to diligence and skill. Great works are performed not by strength, but perseverance.

Every burned book enlightens the world.

The disciplined are free.

Higher than the question of our duration is the question of our deserving. Immortality will come to such as are fit for it, and he would be a great soul in future must be a great soul now.

Where charity keeps pace with grain, industry is blessed, but to slave to get, and keep it sordidly, is a sin against Providence, a vice in government and an injury to their neighbours.

In a man’s letters you know, Madam, his soul lies naked, his letters are only the mirror of his breast, whatever passes within him is shown undisguised in its natural process. Nothing is inverted, nothing distorted, you see systems in their elements, you discover actions in their motives.