Out Of The Chill And The Shadow,

Books Have Been To Me What Gold Is To The Miser, What New Fields Are To The Explorer.

At Christmas-tide The Open Hand Scatters Its Bounty O'er Sea And Land, And None Are Left To Grieve Alone, For Love Is Heaven And Claims Its Own.

I Think That The Almighty Gave Springtime To A Tired World So That Its Peoples Might Know Rest. I Think That He Gave It To A Troubled World So That The World's Inhabitants Might Find Peace. I Think He Gave It To A Discouraged World So That Hope And Faith Might Be Reborn!

I Would Not, If I Could, Give Up The Memory Of The Joy I Have Had In Books For Any Advantage That Could Be Offered In Other Pursuits Or Occupations. Books Have Been To Me What Gold Is To The Miser, What New Fields Are To The Explorer.

Memory Is A Trustworthy Servant As Long As It Is Made To Serve.