Each Morning Sees Some Task Begin, Each

Love Is The Root Of Creation; God's Essence; Worlds Without Number Lie In His Bosom Like Children; He Made Them For This Purpose Only. Only To Love And To Be Loved Again.

Midnight! The Outpost Of Advancing Day! The Frontier Town And Citadel Of Night!

And The Night Shall Be Filled With Music, And The Cares, That Infest The Day, Shall Fold Their Tents Like The Arabs, And Silently Steal Away.

Hope Has As Many Lives As A Cat Or A King.

How Wonderful Is The Human Voice! It Is Indeed The Organ Of The Soul. The Intellect Of Man Is Enthroned Visibly On His Forehead And In His Eye, And The Heart Of Man Is Written On His Countenance, But The Soul, The Soul Reveals Itself In The Voice Only.