Children Are The Hands By Which We

There Are Joys Which Long To Be Ours. God Sends Ten Thousands Truths, Which Come About Us Like Birds Seeking Inlet; But We Are Shut Up To Them, And So They Bring Us Nothing, But Sit And Sing Awhile Upon The Roof, And Then Fly Away.

Young Love Is A Flame; Very Pretty, Often Very Hot And Fierce, But Still Only Light And Flickering. The Love Of The Older And Disciplined Heart Is As Coals, Deep-burning, Unquenchable.

The Natural Term Of An Apple-pie Is But Twelve Hours. It Reaches Its Highest State About One Hour After It Comes From The Oven, And Just Before Its Natural Heat Has Quite Departed. But Every Hour Afterward Is A Declension. And After It Is One Day Old, It Is Thence-forward But The Ghastly Corpse Of Apple-pie.

A Man Who Does Not Know How To Be Angry, Does Not Know How To Be Good. Now And Then A Man Should Be Shaken To The Core With Indignation Over Things Evil.

The God Of The Bible Is A Moral Monstrosity.