They Make Glorious Shipwreck Who Are Lost

The Gift Of Prayer Is Not Always At Our Command.

Would That We Could At Once Paint With The Eyes! In The Long Way From The Eye Through The Arm To The Pencil, How Much Is Lost!

It Is Medicine, Not Poison, I Offer You.

A Single Grateful Thought Toward Heaven Is The Most Perfect Prayer.

The Superstition In Which We Grew Up, Though We May Recognize It, Does Not Lose Its Power Over Us.-not All Are Free Who Make Mock Of Their Chains.