Many Make The Household But Only One

To Educate The Intelligence Is To Expand The Horizon Of Its Wants And Desires.

This Goin' Ware Glory Waits Ye Haint One Agreeable Feetur.

The Quiet Tenderness Of Chaucer, Where You Almost Seem To Hear The Hot Tears Falling, And The Simple Choking Words Sobbed Out.

My Soul Is Not A Palace Of The Past.

Who Gives Himself With His Alms Feeds Three, Himself, His Hungering Neighbor And Me.