Each Hour Comes With Some Little Faggot

The World Is Growing Old;who Would Not Be At Rest And Freewhere Love Is Never Cold?

The Buried Talent Is The Sunken Rock On Which Most Lives Strike And Founder.

Kind Words Are The Music Of The World.

He Draws Us To Himself By Grace, By Example, By Power, By Lovingness, By Beauty, By Pardon, And Above All By The Blessed Sacrament. Every One Who Has Had Anything To Do With Ministering To Souls Has Seen The Power Which Jesus Has. Talent Is Not Needed. Eloquence Is Comparatively Unattractive. Learning Is Often Beside The Mark. Controversy Simply Repels... All The Attraction Of The Church Is In Jesus, And His Chief Attraction Is The Blessed Sacrament

Now Are The Days, Of Humblest Prayer, When Consciences To God Lie Bare, And Mercy Most Delights To Spare. Oh Hearken When We Cry. Now Is The Season, Wisely Long, Of Sadder Thought And Graver Song, When Ailing Souls Grow Well And Strong. Oh Hearken When We Cry. The Feast Of Penance! Oh So Bright, With True Conversion's Heavenly Light, Like Sunrise After Stormy Night! Oh Hearken When We Cry. Oh Happy Time Of Blessed Tears, Of Surer Hopes, Of Chast'ning Fears, Undoing All Our Evil Years. Oh Hearken When We Cry. Chastise Us With Thy Fear; Yet, Father! In The Multitude Of Thy Compassions, Hear!