When Two Agree In Their Desire, One

My Mind's My Kingdom.

The Birds Of The Air Die To Sustain Thee; The Beasts Of The Field Die To Nourish Thee; The Fishes Of The Sea Die To Feed Thee. Our Stomachs Are Their Common Sepulchre. Good God! With How Many Deaths Are Our Poor Lives Patched Up! How Full Of Death Is The Life Of Momentary Man!

I'll Ne'er Distrust My God For Cloth And Bread While Lilies Flourish And The Raven 's Fed.

Blessedness Is Promised To The Peacemaker, Not To The Conqueror.

And What's A Life? - A Weary Pilgrimage, Whose Glory In One Day Doth Fill The Stage With Childhood, Manhood, And Decrepit Age.