Don't Seem To He On

We Mortals, Men And Women, Devour Many A Disappointment Between Breakfast And Dinnertime.

No Great Deed Is Done By Falterers Who Ask For Certainty.

I Couldn't Live In Peace If I Put The Shadow Of A Willful Sin Between Myself And God.

Shall We, Because We Walk On Our Hind Feet, Assume To Ourselves Only The Privilege Of Imperishability?

I Love Words; They Are The Quoits, The Bows, The Staves That Furnish The Gymnasium Of The Mind.