Every One Of Us Is Blind And

I Believe There Are Angels Among Us, Sent Down To Us From Somewhere Up Above. They Come To You And Me In Our Darkest Hours, To Show Us How To Live, To Teach Us How To Give, To Guide Us With A Light Of Love.

The Breakage And Agony Rending Us Today Will Be Our Salvation If They Drive Us By New Routes To Meet It. No One Can Proxy For Us A Masterpiece Of Loving Or Experience For Us The Rapture Of Art Or Launch For Us Book Ships Freighted With Sweet Bread To Strengthen Man. As Of Old We Must Be Our Own Seers, Musicians And Explorers, And To An Extent Vaster Than Ever Before.

Your Success And Happiness Lie In You. External Conditions Are The Accidents Of Life, Its Outer Trappings.

When We Complain Of Having To Do The Same Thing Over And Over, Let Us Remember That God Does Not Send New Trees, Strange Flowers And Different Grasses Every Year. When The Spring Winds Blow, They Blow In The Same Way. In The Same Places The Same Dear Blossoms Lift Up The Same Sweet Faces, Yet They Never Weary Us. When It Rains, It Rains As It Always Has. Even So Would The Same Tasks Which Fill Our Daily Lives Put On New Meanings If We Wrought Them In The Spirit Of Renewal From Within--a Spirit Of Growth And Beauty.

When One Door Closes, Another One Opens, But Sometimes We Wait Too Long Looking At The Closed Door, And Never Realize That Another Door Has Been Opened.