The Next Way Home's The Farthest Way

The Birds Of The Air Die To Sustain Thee; The Beasts Of The Field Die To Nourish Thee; The Fishes Of The Sea Die To Feed Thee. Our Stomachs Are Their Common Sepulchre. Good God! With How Many Deaths Are Our Poor Lives Patched Up! How Full Of Death Is The Life Of Momentary Man!

Humility Enforces Where Neither Virtue Nor Strength Can Prevail, Nor Reason.

Charity Is A Naked Child, Giving Honey To A Bee Without Wings.

I'll Ne'er Distrust My God For Cloth And Bread While Lilies Flourish And The Raven 's Fed.

Is Not This Lily Pure? What Fuller Can Procure A White So Perfect, Spotless Clear As In This Flower Doth Appear?