There Is No Grief Like The Grief

From Dust Thou Art To Dust Returneth, Was Not Spoken Of The Soul.

Every Human Heart Is Human.

After A Day Of Cloud And Wind And Rain Sometimes The Setting Sun Breaks Out Again, And Touching All The Darksome Woods With Light, Smiles On The Fields Until They Laugh And Sing, Then Like A Ruby From The Horizon's Ring, Drops Down Into The Night.

The Story, From Beginning To End, I Found Again In A Heart Of A Friend.

Thought Takes Man Out Of Servitude, Into Freedom.