The Martyr Sacrifices Themselves Entirely In Vain.

People Talk About Imitating Christ, And Imitate Him In The Little Trifling Formal Things, Such As Washing The Feet, Saying His Prayer, And So On; But If Anyone Attempts The Real Imitation Of Him, There Are No Bounds To The Outcry With Which The Presumption Of That Person Is Condemned.

Christ, If He Had Been A Woman, Might Have Been Nothing But A Great Complainer

I Am Of Certain Convinced That The Greatest Heroes Are Those Who Do Their Duty In The Daily Grind Of Domestic Affairs Whilst The World Whirls As A Maddening Dreidel.

Life Is A Hard Fight, A Struggle, A Wrestling With The Principle Of Evil, Hand To Hand, Foot To Foot. Every Inch Of The Way Is Disputed. The Night Is Given Us To Take Breath, To Pray, To Drink Deep At The Fountain Of Power. The Day, To Use The Strength Which Has Been Given Us, To Go Forth To Work With It Till The Evening.

Nursing Is One Of The Fine Arts: I Had Almost Said, The Finest Of Fine Arts.