I Don't Think There's Anything More Tiring

There's Much That Goes To The Makin' Of A Man Or Woman Into Somethin' Better Than A Brute Beast, But There's Three Things In Chief, An' They're The Places Where Life Sets Us Down, An' The Folks Life Knocks Us Up Against, An' -- Not The Things Ye Get, But The Things Ye Don't Get.

There Always Comes, I Think, A Sort Of Peak In Suffering At Which Either You Win Over Your Pain Or Your Pain Wins Over You, According As To Whether You Can, Or Cannot, Call Up That Extra Ounce Of Endurance That Helps You To Break Through The Circle Of Yourself And Do The Hitherto Impossible. That Extra Ounce Carries You Through 'le Dernier Quart D' Heure.' Psychologist Have A Name For It, I Believe. Christians Call It The Grace Of God.

Because Of Course She Had Known She Must Go. She Always Did The Thing Because In Obedience Lay The Integrity That God Asked Of Her. If Anyone Had Asked Her What She Meant By Integrity She Would Not Have Been Able To Tell Them But She Had Seen It Once Like A Picture In Her Mind, A Root Going Down Into The Earth And Drinking Deeply There. No One Was Really Alive Without That Root.

Peace ... Was Contingent Upon A Certain Disposition Of The Soul, A Disposition To Receive The Gift That Only Detachment From Self Made Possible.

A Well-trained Dog Is Like Religion, It Sets The Deserving At Their Ease And Is A Terror To Evildoers.