The Mere Wit Is Only

Were One To Ask Me In Which Direction I Think Man Strongest, I Should Say, His Capacity To Hate.

There Is So Much That Is Deaf And Dumb In Man, And So Much That Is Paralyzed, So Much That Is Shrunken, That Nothing Short Of A Miraculous Touch Of Re-creation Can Make Them At Death Perfect Beings.

In The Morning, We Carry The World Like Atlas; At Noon, We Stoop And Bend Beneath It; And At Night, It Crushes Us Flat To The Ground.

The Greatest Architect And The One Most Needed Is Hope.

Theology Is But Our Ideas Of Truth Classified And Arranged.