The Surest Pledge Of A Deathless Name

O Gift Of God! O Perfect Day: Whereon Shall No Man Work, But Play; Whereon It Is Enough For Me, Not To Be Doing, But To Be!

Love Is The Root Of Creation; God's Essence; Worlds Without Number Lie In His Bosom Like Children; He Made Them For This Purpose Only. Only To Love And To Be Loved Again.

Three Silences There Are: The First Of Speech, The Second Of Desire, The Third Of Thought.

The Greatest Grace Of A Gift, Perhaps, Is That It Anticipates And Admits Of No Return.

Love Makes Its Record In Deeper Colors As We Grow Out Of Childhood Into Manhood; As The Emperors Signed Their Names In Green Ink When Under Age, But When Of Age, In Purple.