The Beginning Is The Promise Of The

Death Is Not An End. It Is A New Impulse.

It's Not Work That Kills [people], It Is Worry.

Grim Care, Moroseness, Anxiety-all This Rust Of Life Ought To Be Scoured Off By The Oil Of Mirth. Mirth Is God's Medicine.

Sorrows, As Storms, Bring Down The Clouds Close To The Earth; Sorrows Bring Heaven Down Close; And They Are Instruments Of Cleansing And Purifying.

No Grace Can Save Any Man Unless He Helps Himself.