Train Up A Fig Tree In The

We All Have Some Experience Of A Feeling, That Comes Over Us Occasionally, Of What We Are Saying And Doing Having Been Said And Done Before, In A Remote Time - Of Our Having Been Surrounded, Dim Ages Ago, By The Same Faces, Objects, And Circumstances.

Oh Agnes, Oh My Soul, So May Thy Face Be By Me When I Close My Life Indeed; So May I, When Realities Are Melting From Me, Like The Shadows Which I Now Dismiss, Still Find Thee Near Me, Pointing Upward!

Your Tale Is Of The Longest," Observed Monks, Moving Restlessly In His Chair. It Is A True Tale Of Grief And Trial, And Sorrow, Young Man," Returned Mr. Brownlow, "and Such Tales Usually Are; If It Were One Of Unmixed Joy And Happiness, It Would Be Very Brief.

I See A Beautiful City And A Brilliant People Rising From This Abyss. I See The Lives For Which I Lay Down My Life, Peaceful, Useful, Prosperous And Happy. I See That I Hold A Sanctuary In Their Hearts, And In The Hearts Of Their Descendants, Generations Hence. It Is A Far, Far Better Thing That I Do, Than I Have Ever Done; It Is A Far, Far Better Rest That I Go To Than I Have Ever Known.

Our Affections, However Laudable, In This Transitory World, Should Never Master Us; We Should Guide Them, Guide Them.