Selfishness At The Expense Of Others Happiness

We Have The Promises Of God As Thick As Daisies In Summer Meadows, That Death, Which Men Most Fear, Shall Be To Us The Most Blessed Of Experiences, If We Trust In Him. Death Is Unclasping; Joy, Breaking Out In The Desert; The Heart, Come To Its Blossoming Time! Do We Call It Dying When The Bud Bursts Into Flower?

Many Men Are Mere Warehouses Full Of Merchandise--the Head, The Heart, Are Stuffed With Goods. . . . There Are Apartments In Their Souls Which Were Once Tenanted By Taste, And Love, And Joy, And Worship, But They Are All Deserted Now, And The Rooms Are Filled With Earthy And Material Things.

Some People Think Black Is The Color Of Heaven, And That The More They Can Make Their Faces Look Like Midnight, The More Evidence They Have Of Grace. But God, Who Made The Sun And The Flowers, Never Sent Me To Proclaim To You Such A Lie As That.

Were One To Ask Me In Which Direction I Think Man Strongest, I Should Say, His Capacity To Hate.

It Is Not Work That Kills Men; It Is Worry. Worry Is Rust Upon The Blade.