Much Of The Work Of Every Life

He Is Coming Like The Glory Of The Morning On The Wave, He Is Wisdom To The Mighty, He Is Succour To The Brave, So The World Shall Be His Footstool, And The Soul Of Time His Slave, Our God Is Marching On.

It Is Not Good For Beauty That It Should Be A Profession.

Beneath All Differences Of Doctrine Or Discipline There Exists A Fundamental Agreement As To The Simple, Absolute Essentials In Religion.

I Know Not Why There Is Such A Melancholy Feeling Attached To The Remembrance Of Past Happiness, Except That We Fear That The Future Can Have Nothing So Bright As The Past.

Don't You Think That The Best Things Are Already In View?