Anger Is A Wind Which Blows Out

Character Survives; Goodness Lives; Love Is Immortal.

The Undressed Is Vulgar; The Nude Is Pure, And The Well-dressed Tainted.

Language Is Not Subtle Enough, Tender Enough, To Express All That We Feel; And When Language Fails, The Highest And Deepest Longings Are Translated Into Music. Music Is The Sunshine - The Climate - Of The Soul, And It Floods The Heart With A Perfect June.

If Upon This Earth We Ever Have A Glimpse Of Heaven,it Is When We Pass A Home In Winter, At Night,and Through The Windows, The Curtains Drawn Aside,we See The Family About The Pleasant Hearth; The Old Lady Knitting; The Cat Playing With The Yarn;the Children Wishing They Had As Many Dolls Or Dollars Or Knivesor Somethings, As There Are Sparks Going Out To Join The Roaring Blast;the Father Reading And Smoking, And The Clouds Rising Like Incense From The Altar Of Domestic Joy.i Never Passed Such A House Without Feeling Thati Had Received A Benediction.

Every Church That Has A Standard Higher Than Human Welfare Is Dangerous.