Those Clouds Are Angels' Robes.

Three Fishers Went Sailing Away To The West,/ Away To The West As The Sun Went Down.

Never Trample On Any Soul Though It May Be Lying In The Veriest Mire; For That Last Spark Of Self-respect Is Its Only Hope, Its Only Chance; The Last Seed Of A New And Better Life: The Voice Of God That Whispers To It: "you Are Not What You Ought To Be, And You Are Not What You Can Be. You Are Still God's Child, Still An Immortal Soul. You May Rise Yet. And Fight A Good Fight Yet, And Be A Man Once More, After The Likeness Of God Who Made You, And Christ Who Died For You!

Young Blood Must Have Its Course, Lad, And Every Dog Its Day.

The World Goes Up And The World Goes Down, The Sunshine Follows The Rain; And Yesterday's Sneer And Yesterday's Frown Can Never Come Over Again.

All We Need To Make Us Really Happy Is Something To Be Enthusiastic About.