We Need Never Be Ashamed Of Our

It Was One Of Those Hot, Silent Nights, When People Sit At Windows Listening For The Thunder Which They Know Will Shortly Break; When They Recall Dismal Tales Of Hurricanes And Earthquakes; And Of Lonely Travellers On Open Plains, And Lonely Ships At Sea, Struck By Lightning.

"there Is No Deception Now, Mr. Weller. Tears," Said Job, With A Look Of Momentary Slyness, "tears Are Not The Only Proofs Of Distress, Nor The Best Ones."

I Was So Humiliated, Hurt, Spurned, Offended, Angry, Sorry--i Cannot Hit Upon The Right Name For The Smart--god Knows What Its Name Was--that Tears Started To My Eyes.

The Great Grindstone, Earth, Had Turned When Mr. Lorry Looked Out Again, And The Sun Was Red On The Courtyard. But, The Lesser Grindstone Stood Alone There In The Calm Morning Air, With Red Upon It That The Sun Had Never Give, And Would Never Take Away.

Mankind Was My Business... Charity, Mercy, Forbearance, Benevolence, Were All My Business.