For still in mutual sufferance lies
The secret of true living;
Love scarce is love that never knows
The sweetness of forgiving. — John Greenleaf Whittier
Our Saviour would love at no less rate than death; and from the supereminent height of glory, stooped and debased Himself to the sufferance of the extremest of indignities, and sunk himself to the bottom of abjectness, to exalt our condition to the contrary extreme. — Robert Boyle