Love Gives Itself; It Is Not Bought.

Only A Look And A Voice; Then Darkness Again And Silence.

The Atmosphere Breathes Rest And Comfort, And The Many Chambers Seem Full Of Welcomes.

The Natural Alone Is Permanent. Fantastic Idols May Be Worshipped For A While; But At Length They Are Overturned By The Continual And Silent Progress Of Truth, As The Grim Statues Of Copan Have Been Pushed From Their Pedestals By The Growth Of Forest-trees, Whose Seeds Were Sown By The Wind In The Ruined Walls.

Fair Words Gladden So Many A Heart.

There's Not A Ship That Sails The Ocean, But Every Climate, Every Soil, Must Bring Its Tribute, Great Or Small, And Help To Build The Wooden Wall!