Debt Rolls A Man Over

Many Of Our Troubles Are God Dragging Us, And They Would End If We Would Stand Upon Our Feet And Go Whither He Would Have Us Go.

There Never Was A Liar That Had Not A Spot In Him Where He Could Not Help Admiring Truth.

The One Great Poem Of New England Is Her Sunday.

We Have The Promises Of God As Thick As Daisies In Summer Meadows, That Death, Which Men Most Fear, Shall Be To Us The Most Blessed Of Experiences, If We Trust In Him. Death Is Unclasping; Joy, Breaking Out In The Desert; The Heart, Come To Its Blossoming Time! Do We Call It Dying When The Bud Bursts Into Flower?

Compassion Will Cure More Sins Than Condemnation.