No One Suspects The Days To Be

We Seek Our Friend Not Sacredly, But With An Adulterate Passion Which Would Appropriate Him To Ourselves.

For Flowers That Bloom About Our Feet; For Tender Grass, So Fresh, So Sweet; For Song Of Bird, And Hum Of Bee; For All Things Fair We Hear Or See, Father In Heaven, We Thank Thee!

Society Is A Masked Ball, Where Every One Hides His Real Character, And Reveals It By Hiding.

God Made Yeast, As Well As Dough, And Loves Fermentation Just As Dearly As He Loves Vegetation.

Our Chief Want Is Someone Who Will Inspire Us To Be What We Know We Could Be.