It Is Not Work That Kills Men;

Fear Is The Soul's Signal For Rallying.

May We Feel After Thee; Still Calling Out In The Darkness, As Children Waking In The Night Call "father," So May We Call Out For God; And, At Times, Even If We Do Not Hear Thy Voice, May There Be The Form Of A Hand Resting Upon Us, And That Shall Be Enough; For We Shall Take Hold Of It, Though It Be In The Dark, And It Shall Guide Us To The Growing Light; For The Day Shall Come, And The Release And Triumph.

Thorough Selfishness Destroys Or Paralyzes Enjoyment. A Heart Made Selfish By The Contest For Wealth Is Like A Citadel Stormed In War, Utterly Shattered.

When There Is Love In The Heart, There Are Rainbows In The Eyes, Which Cover Every Black Cloud With Gorgeous Hues.

No Emotion, Any More Than A Wave, Can Long Retain Its Own Individual Form.