Our religion is meant to root out our vices, but it covers, nourishes, and excites them. Montaigne.
Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, / Which we ascribe to heaven. All's Well, i. 1.
Our sacrifices are rarely of an active kind; we, as it were, abandon what we give away. It is not from resolution, but despair, that we renounce our property. Goethe.
Our self-made men are the glory of our institutions. 15 Wendell Phillips.
Our senses will not admit of anything extreme: too much noise confuses us, too much light dazzles us. Pascal.
Our social forms are very far from truth and equity. Emerson.
Our sorrows are like thunder-clouds, which seem black in the distance, but grow lighter as they approach. Jean Paul.
Our souls much farther than our eyes can see. Drayton.
Our souls must become expanded by the contemplation 20 of Nature's grandeur before we can fully comprehend the greatness of man. Heine.
Our spiritual maladies are but of opinion; we are but fettered by chains of our own forging, and which ourselves also can rend asunder. Carlyle.