Ignorance Is The Womb Of Monsters.

If Every Child Might Live The Life Predestined In A Mother's Heart, All The Way From The Cradle To The Coffin, He Would Walk Upon A Beam Of Light, And Shine In Glory.

Hope Is Sweet-minded And Sweet-eyed. It Draws Pictures; It Weaves Fancies; It Fills The Future With Delight.

If Christ Is Not Divine, Every Impulse Of The Christian World Falls To A Lower Octave, And Light And Love And Hope Decline.

Yea, Though The Breath Of Disappointment Should Chill The Sanguine Heart, Speedily Gloweth It Again, Warmed By The Live Embers Of Hope.

I Beseech You To Correct One Fault - Severe Speech Of Others; Never Speak Evil Of Any Man, No Matter What The Facts May Be.