What A Mother Sings To The Cradle

The Clearest Window That Ever Was Fashioned If It Is Barred By Spiders' Webs, And Hung Over With Carcasses Of Insects, So That The Sunlight Has Forgotten To Find Its Way Through, Of What Use Can It Be? Now, The Church Is God's Window; And If It Is So Obscured By Errors That Its Light Is Darkness, How Great Is That Darkness!

Genius Is A Steed Too Fiery For The Plow Or The Cart.

A Babe Is Nothing But A Bundle Of Possibilities.

The Deeper Men Go Into Life, The Deeper Is Their Conviction That This Life Is Not All. It Is An Unfinished Symphony. A Day May Round Out An Insect's Life, And A Bird Or A Beast Needs No Tomorrow. Not So With Him Who Knows That He Is Related To God And Has Felt The Power Of An Endless Life.

Socially We Are Woven Into The Fabric Of Society, Where Every Man Is Like One Thread In A Piece Of Cloth. No Single Thread Has A Right To Say, "i Will Stay Here No Longer," And Draw Out. No Man Has A Right To Make A Hole In The Well-woven Fabric Of Society.