Faith Works Miracles. At Least It Allows

A Human Act Once Set In Motion Flows On Forever To The Great Account. Our Deathlessness Is In What We Do, Not In What We Are.

Sunrays, Leaning On Our Southern Hills And Lighting Wild Cloud-mountains That Drag The Hills Along, Oft Ends The Day Of Your Shifting Brilliant Laughter Chill As A Dull Face Frowning On A Song. Ay, But Shows The South-west A Ripple-feathered Bosom Blown To Silver While The Clouds Are Shaken And Ascend Scaling The Mid-heavens As They Stream, There Comes A Sunset Rich, Deep Like Love In Beauty Without End.

Cultivated Men And Women Who Do Not Skim The Cream Of Life, And Are Attached To The Duties, Yet Escape The Harsher Blows, Make Acute And Balanced Observers.

Kissing Don't Last: Cookery Do!

The Man Of Science Is Nothing If Not A Poet Gone Wrong.