The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it; This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it. That low man goes on adding one to one, His hundreds soon hit: His high man, aiming at a million, Misses an unit.

Put his shoulder to the wheel.

Any one can count the seeds in an apple.. Only God can count the apples in a seed.

Still ailing, Wind? Wilt be appeased or no?

Reads verse and thinks she understands.