Now, However, I See The Folly Of

When Indeed Shall We Learn That We Are All Related One To The Other, That We Are All Members Of One Body?

The Hands Of Those I Meet Are Dumbly Eloquent To Me. The Touch Of Some Hands Is An Impertinence. I Have Met People So Empty Of Joy, That When I Clasped Their Frosty Finger-tips, It Seemed As If I Were Shaking Hands With A Northeast Storm. Others There Are Whose Hands Have Sunbeams In Them, So That Their Grasp Warms My Heart. It May Be Only The Clinging Touch Of A Child's Hand; But There Is As Much Potential Sunshine In It For Me As There Is In A Loving Glance For Others. A Hearty Handshake Or A Friendly Letter Gives Me Genuine Pleasure.

So Long As You Can Sweeten Another's Pain, Life Is Not In Vain.

I Have Often Been Asked, Do Not People Bore You? I Do Not Understand Quite What That Means. I Suppose The Calls Of The Stupid And Curious, Especially Of Newspaper Reporters, Are Always Inopportune. I Also Dislike People Who Try To Talk Down To My Understanding. They Are Like People Who When Walking With You Try To Shorten Their Steps To Suit Yours; The Hypocrisy In Both Cases Is Equally Exasperating.

More Than At Any Other Time, When I Hold A Beloved Book In My Hand My Limitations Fall From Me, My Spirit Is Free.