When Sparrows Build And The

There Is But Halting For The Wearied Foot; The Better Way Is Hidden. Faith Hath Failed; One Stronger Far Than Reason Mastered Her. It Is Not Reason Makes Faith Hard, But Life.

How Short Our Happy Days Appear! How Long The Sorrowful!

O Woman! Thou Wert Fashioned To Beguile: So Have All Sages Said, All Poets Sung.

Tears Are The Showers That Fertilize This World.

What Is Thy Thought? There Is No Miracle? There Is A Great One, Which Thou Hast Not Read, And Never Shalt Escape. Thyself, O Man, Thou Art The Miracle. Ay, Thou Thyself, Being In The World And Of The World, Thyself, Hast Breathed In Breath From Him That Made The World. Thou Art Thy Father's Copy Of Himself,-- Thou Art Thy Father's Miracle.