A Rogue Is A Roundabout Fool.

And In Life's Noisiest Hour, There Whispers Still The Ceaseless Love Of Thee, The Heart's Self-solace And Soliloquy. You Mould My Hopes, You Fashion Me Within.

The Book Of Job Is Pure Arab Poetry Of The Highest And Most Antique Cast.

The Whole Faculties Of Man Must Be Exerted In Order To Call Forth Noble Energies; And He Who Is Not Earnestly Sincere Lives In But Half His Being, Self-mutilated, Self-paralyzed.

He Prayeth Best Who Loveth Best.

I Dislike The Frequent Use Of The Word Virtue, Instead Of Righteousness, In The Pulpit; In Prayer Or Preaching Before A Christian Community, It Sounds Too Much Like Pagan Philosophy.