How Great A Possibility, How Small A

There Is But One Temple In This Universe: The Body. We Speak To God Whenever We Lay Our Hands Upon It.

The Highest Ensign That Men Ever Met And Embraced Under, The Cross Itself, Had No Meaning Save An Accidental Extrinsic One.

Worship Is Transcendent Wonder.

Nothing That Was Worthy In The Past Departs; No Truth Or Goodness Realized By Man Ever Dies, Or Can Die.

Narrative Is Linear, But Action Has Breadth And Depth As Well As Height And Is Solid.