In The Ardor Of Pursuit Men Soon

Rigor Pushed Too Far Is Sure To Miss Its Aim, However Good, As The Bow Snaps That Is Bent Too Stiffly.

Time Is A Blooming Field: Nature Is Ever Teeming With Life: And All Is Seed, And All Is Fruit.

Obedience Decks The Christian Most.

Fate Hath No Voice But The Heart's Impulse.

Doch Zittre Vor Der Langsamen, Der Stillen Macht Der Zeit. Yet Tremble At The Slow, Silent Power Of Time.