992
Some grave their wrongs on marble; He more just,
Stooped down serene, and wrote them on the dust;
Trod under foot, the sport of every wind,
Swept from the earth, and blotted from His mind;
There, secret in the grave, He bade them lie,
And grieved they could not escape the Almighty's eye.
993
One is keen to suspect a quarter from which one has once received a hurt. "A burnt child dreads the fire."
994
The noblest remedy for injuries is oblivion.
—From the French.
995
Hath any wronged thee?
Be bravely revenged;
Slight it, and the work is begun;
Forgive it, and 'tis finished.
He is below himself who is not above an injury.