We Let Our Blessings Get Mouldy, And

The Soul Is A Temple; And God Is Silently Building It By Night And By Day. Precious Thoughts Are Building It; Disinterested Love Is Building It; All-penetrating Faith Is Building It.

The Soul Is Often Hungrier Than The Body And No Shop Can Sell It Food.

What Profusion Is There In His Work! When Trees Blossom There Is Not A Single Breastpin, But A Whole Bosom Full Of Gems; And Of Leaves They Have So Many Suits That They Can Throw Them Away To The Winds All Summer Long. What Unnumbered Cathedrals Has He Reared In The Forest Shades, Vast And Grand, Full Of Curious Carvings, And Haunted Evermore By Tremulous Music; And In The Heavens Above, How Do Stars Seem To Have Flown Out Of His Hand Faster Than Sparks Out Of A Mighty Forge!

Very Few Men Acquire Wealth In Such A Manner As To Receive Pleasure From It.

The Bible Is God's Chart For You To Steer By, To Keep You From The Bottom Of The Sea, And To Show You Where The Harbor Is, And How To Reach It Without Running On Rocks Or Bars.