No Church Can Be Prospered In Which

Expedients Are For An Hour, But Principles Are For The Ages. Just Because The Rains Descend And Winds Blow, We Cannot Afford To Build On Shifting Sands.

As Ships Meet At Sea A Moment Together, When Words Of Greeting Must Be Spoken, And Then Away Upon The Deep, So Men Meet In This World; And I Think We Should Cross No Man's Path Without Hailing Him, And If He Needs Giving Him Supplies.

Death? Translated Into The Heavenly Tongue, That Word Means Life!

Mirth Is God's Medicine. Everybody Ought To Bathe In It. Grim Care, Moroseness, Anxiety,--all This Rust Of Life, Ought To Be Scoured Off By The Oil Of Mirth. It Is Better Than Emery. Every Man Ought To Rub Himself With It. A Man Without Mirth Is Like A Wagon Without Springs, In Which One Is Caused Disagreeably To Jolt By Every Pebble Over Which It Runs.

No Man Is More Cheated Than The Selfish Man.