Lord God, pity me: my infancy was stupid, my boyhood vain, my adolescence unclean. But now, Lord Jesus, my heart has been set on fire with holy love, and my disposition has been changed, so that my soul has no wish to touch those bitter things which once were meat and drink to me.
Such are my affections now that it is nothing but sin I hate, none but God I fear to offend, nothing but God in which I rejoice. My only grief is for sin, my only love is God, my only hope is in him. Nothing saddens me except wrong, nothing pleases me except Christ.
Richard Rolle, The Fire of Love (1343), ch. 12
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