[i]f You Believe In God Omnipresent, Then

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.

One Was Born A Certain Sort Of Person, And Though By Ceasless Struggle One Might Become As Nice As That Sort Of Person Ever Is, One Could Never Become As Nice As A Nicer Sort Of Person.

This Modern Craze For Putting The Young In Positions Of Authority - Headmasters In Their Thirties, Bishops Without A Gray Hair On Their Heads, Generals Who Scarcely Need To Use A Razor - Ever Since It Took Hold The World's Gone Steadily Downhill.

The Dawn Came - Not The Flaming Sky That Promises Storm, But A Golden Dawn Of Infinite Promise. The Birds Came Flying Up Out Of The East In Wedge-shaped Formation, And The Mist Lifted In Soft Wreaths Of Sun-shot Silver. Colour Came Back To The World. The Grass Glowed With A Green So Vivid That It Seemed Pulsing, Like Flame, From Some Hidden Fire In The Earth, The Distant Woods Took On All The Amazing Deep Crimsons And Purples Of Their Winter Colouring, The Banks Were Studded With Their Jewels Of Lichens And Bright Moss, And Above The Wet Hedges Shone With Sun-shot Orbs Of Light.

[i]f You Believe In God Omnipresent, Then You Must Believe Everything That Comes Into Your Life, Person Or Event, Must Have Something Of God In It To Be Experienced And Loved; Not Hated.