Truly To Sing, That Is A Different

All This Hurrying Soon Will Be Over. Only When We Tarry Do We Touch The Holy.

Someday You Will Name Me, Then Gently Place Those Burning Holy Roses In My Hair.

God Speaks To Each Of Us As He Makes Us, Then Walks With Us Silently Out Of The Night.

Fate Loves To Invent Patterns And Designs. Its Difficulty Lies In Complexity. But Life Itself Is Difficult Because Of Its Simplicity. It Has Only A Few Things Of A Grandeur Not Fit For Us.

There Is Only One Solitude, And It Is Vast, Heavy, Difficult To Bear, And Almost Everyone Has Hours When He Would Gladly Exchange It For Any Kind Of Sociability, However Trivial Or Cheap, For The Tiniest Outward Agreement With The First Person Who Comes Along.