Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall.

Intelligence And Courtesy Not Always Are Combined; Often In A Wooden House A Golden Room We Find.

Most People Would Succeed In Small Things If They Were Not Troubled With Great Ambitions.

And As She Looked Around, She Saw How Death The Consoler, Laying His Hand Upon Many A Heart, Had Healed It Forever.

The Day Is Done; And Slowly From The Scene The Stooping Sun Upgathers His Spent Shafts, And Puts Them Back Into His Golden Quiver!

The Pleasant Books, That Silently Among Our Household Treasures Take Familiar Places, And Are To Us As If A Living Tongue Spake From The Printed Leaves Or Pictured Faces!