Nothing Dies So Hard, Or Rallies So

There Is No Such Thing As Preaching Patience Into People, Unless The Sermon Is So Long That They Have To Practice It While They Hear. No Man Can Learn Patience Except By Going Out Into The Hurlyburly World, And Taking Life Just As It Blows. Patience Is But Lying To, And Riding Out The Gale.

We Go To The Grave Of A Friend Saying, "a Man Is Dead," But Angels Throng About Him Saying, "a Man Is Born."

We Pray For Those Who Have Ceased To Pray. We Pray For Those That Need Prayer More Than Ever, That Have Fewer And Fewer Seasons Even Of Thought, That Grow Hard With Years, That Are Less And Less Troubled By Sin, And That Are More And More Irreverent Of Religion. We Pray For The Children Of Christian Parents Who Sometimes Weep At The Memory Of Father And Mother, But Who Never Have Thought Of God.

Not Thine The Sorrow, But Ours, Sainted Soul! Thou Hast Indeed Entered Into The Promised Land, While We Are Yet On The March. To Us Remain The Rocking Of The Deep, The Storm Upon The Land, Days Of Duty And Nights Of Watching; But Thou Are Sphered High Above All Darkness And Fear, Beyond All Sorrow And Weariness. Rest, Oh, Weary Heart!

No Matter What Looms Ahead, If You Can Eat Today, Enjoy Today, Mix Good Cheer With Friends Today Enjoy It And Bless God For It.