It Isn't The Thing You Do, Dear,

God Made The Forests, The Tiny Stars, And The Wild Winds-and I Think That He Made Them Partly As A Balance For That Kind Of Civilization That Would Choke The Spirit Of Joy Out Of Our Hearts. He Made The Great Open Places For The People Who Want To Be Alone With Him And Talk To Him, Away From The Crowds That Kill All Reverence. And I Think That He Is Glad At Times To Have Us Forget Our Cares And Responsibilities That We May Be Nearer Him-as Jesus Was When He Crept Away Into The Wilderness To Pray.

Out Of The Chill And The Shadow, Into The Thrill And The Shine. Out Of The Dearth And The Famine, Into The Fulness Divine.

Memory Is A Trustworthy Servant As Long As It Is Made To Serve.

In The Whole Round Of Human Affairs Little Is So Fatal To Peace As Misunderstanding.

Never Yet Was A Springtime, When The Buds Forgot To Bloom.