Patience (n.) as angelic as Desdemona's would fill more books than the greatest library — yet it vanishes as nothing in the bottomless abyss of jealousy, and almost whets the passion's hunger.
Patience (n.) endures all things in silence — which, in a mother, would mean estrangement; love endures all things silently while presupposing love in the other.
Patience (n.) is the extraordinary virtue the aesthete lacks — he has not even the patience to want to live.
Patience (n.) is opposed not to the intensity of suffering — that is courage's province — but to time; true patience is long-suffering, and cannot be painted or poetized.
Patience (n.) that acquires itself in patience is inward history.
Patience (n.) is like a caged animal pacing out the length of its chain for exercise: measure your chain as far as the thought of death and eternity, and you will get the zest to hold out.
Patience (n.) is affordable for God because he has eternity: he gives men time, with premeditation.
Patience (n.) is God's answer to man's disobedience: an inestimable comfort, like a savings account, that turns into the most frightful indictment if taken in vain.