Of All Escape Mechanisms, Death Is The

Home Should Be An Oratorio Of The Memory, Singing To All Our After Life Melodies And Harmonies Of Old-remembered Joy.

A Book Is A Garden, An Orchard, A Storehouse, A Party, A Mentor, A Teacher, A Guidepost, A Counsellor.

The Newspaper Is A Greater Treasure To The People Than Uncounted Millions Of Gold.

There Is No Liberty To Men Who Know Not How To Govern Themselves.

While A Man Is Stringing A Harp, He Tries The Strings, Not For Music, But For Construction. When It Is Finished It Shall Be Played For Melodies. God Is Fashioning The Human Heart For Future Joy. He Only Sounds A String Here And There To See How Far His Work Has Progressed.