Much Must He Toil Who Serves The

Art Is Long, And Time Is Fleeting.

All Things Are Symbols.

How Wonderful Is The Human Voice! It Is Indeed The Organ Of The Soul. The Intellect Of Man Is Enthroned Visibly On His Forehead And In His Eye, And The Heart Of Man Is Written On His Countenance, But The Soul, The Soul Reveals Itself In The Voice Only.

Out Of The Shadows Of Night The World Rolls Into Light.

Many People Do Not Allow Their Principles To Take Root, But Pull Them Up Every Now And Then, As Children Do The Flowers They Have Planted, To See If They Are Growing.