He That Lives By The Sight Of

Flowers . . . Have A Mysterious And Subtle Influence Upon The Feelings, Not Unlike Some Strains Of Music. They Relax The Tenseness Of The Mind. They Dissolve Its Rigor.

God Has Made Sleep To Be A Sponge By Which To Rub Out Fatigue. A Man's Roots Are Planted In Night As In A Soil.

The Divine Mind Does Not Think For Us, Or Inspite Of Us, But Works In Us To Think, And To Will, And To Do.

The Newspaper Is A Greater Treasure To The People Than Uncounted Millions Of Gold.

Blessed Be The Man Whose Work Drives Him. Something Must Drive Men; And If It Is Wholesome Industry, They Have No Time For A Thousand Torments And Temptations.