Gratitude Is Heaven Itself.

The Soul Of Sweet Delight, Can Never Be Defiled.

When The Stars Threw Down Their Spears, And Watered Heaven With Their Tears, Did He Smile His Work To See? Did He Who Made The Lamb Make Thee?

I Am More Famed In Heaven For My Works Than I Could Well Conceive. In My Brain Are Studies & Chambers Filled With Books & Pictures Of Old, Which I Wrote And Painted In Ages Of Eternity Before My Mortal Life; And Whose Works Are The Delight & Study Of Archangels. Why, Then, Should I Be Anxious About The Riches Or Fame Of Mortality?

My Brother Starv'd Between Two Walls,his Children's Cry My Soul Appalls

To Generalize Is To Be An Idiot.