Folks Never Understand The Folks They Hate.

What Men Call Luck Is The Prerogative Of Valiant Souls, The Fealty Life Pays Its Rightful Kings.

Hush! Still As Death, The Tempest Holds His Breath As From A Sudden Will; The Rain Stops Short, But From The Eaves You See It Drop, And Hear It From The Leaves, All Is So Bodingly Still.

God's Livery Is A Very Plain One; But Its Wearers Have Good Reason To Be Content. If It Have Not So Much Gold-lace About It As Satan's, It Keeps Out Foul Weather Better, And Is Besides A Great Deal Cheaper.

The Very Gnarliest And Hardest Of Hearts Has Some Musical Strings In It; But They Are Tuned Differently In Every One Of Us.

Behind The Dim Unknown, Standeth God With The Shadow, Keeping Watch Above His Own.