There Is An Army Of Waiters In

If There's A Job To Be Done, I Always Ask The Busiest Man In My Parish To Take It On And It Gets Done.

Every Green Thing Loves To Die In Bright Colors. The Vegetable Cohorts March Glowing Out Of The Year In Flaming Dresses, As If To Leave This Earth Were A Triumph And Not A Sadness. It Is Never Nature That Is Sad, But Only We, That Dare Not Look Back On The Past, And That Have Not Its Prophecy Of The Future In Our Bosoms.

Fear Is The Soul's Signal For Rallying.

It Will Not Do To Be Saints At Meeting And Sinners Everywhere Else.

Every Fresh Act Of Benevolence Is The Herald Of Deeper Satisfaction; Every Charitable Act A Stepping-stone Towards Heaven.