Epithets Are Not Arguments. Abuse Does Not

Life Is A Narrow Vale Between The Cold And Barren Peaks Of Two Eternities. We Strive In Vain To Look Beyond The Heights. We Cry Aloud-and The Only Answer Is The Echo Of Our Wailing Cry. From The Voiceless Lips Of The Unreplying Dead There Comes No Word. But In The Night Of Death Hope Sees A Star And Listening Love Can Hear The Rustling Of A Wing.

I Belong To The Great Church Which Holds The World Within Its Starlit Aisles; That Claims The Great And Good Of Every Race And Clime; That Finds With Joy The Grain Of Gold In Every Creed, And Floods With Light And Love The Germs Of Good In Every Soul.

Only The Very Ignorant Are Perfectly Satisfied That They Know. To The Common Man The Great Problems Are Easy. He Has No Trouble In Accounting For The Universe. He Can Tell You The Origin And Destiny Of Man And The Why And Wherefore Of Things.

When Your Little Child Tells A Lie, Do Not Rush At Him As Though The World Were About To Go Into Bankruptcy. Be Honest With Him. A Tyrant Father Will Have Liars For His Children; Do You Know That? A Lie Is Born Of Tyranny Upon The One Hand And Weakness Upon The Other, And When You Rush At A Poor Little Boy With A Club In Your Hand, Of Course He Lies.

Orthodox Christians Have The Habit Of Claiming All Great Men, All Men Who Have Held Important Positions, Men Of Reputation, Men Of Wealth. As Soon As The Funeral Is Over Clergymen Begin To Relate Imaginary Conversations With The Deceased, And In A Very Little While The Great Man Is Changed To A Christian - Possibly To A Saint.