Religion And Art Spring From The Same

Even The Wicked Get Worse Than They Deserve.

When Kindness Has Left People, Even For A Few Moments, We Become Afraid Of Them, As If Their Reason Had Left Them.

Look At My Papa Here; He's Been Dead All These Years, And Yet He Is More Real To Me Than Almost Anybody Else. He Never Goes Out Of My Life. I Talk To Him And Consult Him All The Time. The Older I Grow, The Better I Know Him And The More I Understand Him.

She Had Only To Stand In The Orchard, To Put Her Hand On A Little Crab Tree And Look Up At The Apples, To Make You Feel The Goodness Of Planting And Tending And Harvesting At Last.

Oh, This Is The Joy Of The Rose; That It Blows, And Goes.