Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend. - John Donne

Man, who is the noblest part of the earth, melts so away as if he were a statue, not of earth, but of snow.

On a huge hill,
Cragged and steep, Truth stands, and hee that will
Reach her, about must, and about must goe;
And what the hills suddenness resists, winne so;
Yet strive so, that before age, deaths twilight,
Thy Soule rest, for none can worke in that night.

I know not what fear is, nor I know not what it is that I fear now; I fear not the hastening of my death, and yet I do fear the increase of the disease... my weakness is from nature, who hath but her measure, my strength is from God, who possesses and distributes infinitely.