I Never Know How To Worship Until

Compassion Will Cure More Sins Than Condemnation.

Speak Of The Appetite For Drink; Or Of A Bon-vivant's Relish For Dinner! What Are These Mere Animal Throes And Ragings Compared With Those Fantasies Of Taste, Of Those Yearning Of The Imagination, Of Those Insatiable Appetites Of Intellect, Which Bewilder A Student In A Great Bookseller's Temptation-hall.

To The Covetous Man Life Is A Nightmare, And God Lets Him Wrestle With It As Best He May.

Some Sorrows Are But Footprints In The Snow, Which The Genial Sun Effaces, Or, If It Does Not Wholly Efface, Changes Into Dimples.

A Babe Is Nothing But A Bundle Of Possibilities.