Let Every Man Come To God In

Nothing Dies So Hard, Or Rallies So Often As Intolerance.

Everyone Has Conscience Enough To Hate; Few Have Religion Enough To Love.

Nobody Ever Sees Truth Except In Fragments.

You Can Imagine Thistle-down So Light That When You Run After It Your Running Motion Would Drive It Away From You, And That The More You Tried To Catch It The Faster It Would Fly From Your Grasp. And It Should Be With Every Man, That, When He Is Chased By Troubles, They, Chasing, Shall Raise Him Higher And Higher.

O Lord God, We Pray That We May Be Inspired To Nobleness Of Life In The Least Things. May We Dignify All Our Daily Life. May We Set Such A Sacredness Upon Every Part Of Our Life, That Nothing Shall Be Trivial, Nothing Unimportant, And Nothing Dull, In The Daily Round.