Lincoln, The Man Of The People

At The Heart Of The Cyclone Tearing The Sky And Flinging The Cloud And The Towers By, Is A Place Of Central Calm: So Here In The Roar Of Mortal Things, I Have A Place Where My Spirit Sings, In The Hollow Of God's Palm.

The Future Life Is Where We Will Go On Helping To Bring The Universe To Perfection, Which Is God's Grand Ultimate Aim. [the Purpose Of Life] Is To Help God Run The Universe. Everyone In That Better Land Will Be Busy All The Time, And The Environment Will Be Perfect All The Time For Doing The Work Which God Assigns To All.

Three Were The Fates. Poverty That Chains; Gray Drudgery That Grinds The Hope Away, And Gaping Ignorance That Starves The Soul.

I (god) Will Leave Man To Make The Fateful Guess, Will Leave Him Torn Between The No And Yes, Leave Him Unresting Till He Rests In Me, Drawn Upward By The Choice That Makes Him Free, Leave Him In Tragic Loneliness To Choose, With All In Life To Win Or All To Lose.

The Thing That Is Incredible Is Life Itself. Why Should We Be Here In This Sun-illuminated Universe? Why Should There Be Green Earth Under Our Feet?