The Children With The Streamlets Sing, When

Whatever Science And Philosophy May Do For Mankind, The World Can Never Outgrow Its Need Of The Simplicity That Is In Christ.

My 'must-have' Was Poetry. From The First, Life Meant That To Me. And, Fortunately, Poetry Is Not Purchasable Material, But An Atmosphere In Which Every Life May Expand. I Found It Everywhere About Me.

I Don't Own An Inch Of Land, But All I See Is Mine.

I Regard A Love For Poetry As One Of The Most Needful And Helpful Elements In The Life-outfit Of A Human Being. It Was The Greatest Of Blessings To Me, In The Long Days Of Toil To Which I Was Shut In Much Earlier Than Most Young Girls Are, That The Poetry I Held In My Memory Breathed Its Enchanted Atmosphere Through Me And Around Me, And Touched Even Dull Drudgery With Its Sunshine.

The Religion Of Our Fathers Overhung Us Children Like The Shadow Of A Mighty Tree Against The Trunk Of Which We Rested, While We Looked Up In Wonder Through The Great Boughs That Half Hid And Half Revealed The Sky. Some Of The Boughs Were Already Decaying, So That Perhaps We Began To See A Little More Of The Sky Than Our Elders; But The Tree Was Sound At Its Heart.