A Weed Is No More Than A

The Nunneries Of Silent Nooks, The Murmured Longing Of The Wood.

The Only Conclusive Evidence Of A Man's Sincerity Is That He Gives Himself For A Principle. Words, Money, All Things Else, Are Comparatively Easy To Give Away; But When A Man Makes A Gift Of His Daily Life And Practice, It Is Plain That The Truth, Whatever It May Be, Has Taken Possession Of Him.

The Story Of Any One Man's Real Experience Finds Its Startling Parallel In That Of Every One Of Us.

Safe In The Hallowed Quiets Of The Past.

A Weed Is No More Than A Flower In Disguise, Which Is Seen Through At Once, If Love Give A Man Eyes.