For His Heart Was In

The History Of The Past Is A Mere Puppet-show. A Little Man Comes Out And Blows A Little Trumpet, And Goes In Again. You Look For Something New, And Lo! Another Little Man Comes Out, And Blows Another Little Trumpet, And Goes In Again. And It Is All Over.

What Is Time? The Shadow On The Dial, The Striking Of The Clock, The Running Of The Sand, Day And Night, Summer And Winter, Months, Years, Centuries-these Are But Arbitrary And Outward Signs, The Measure Of Time, Not Time Itself. Time Is The Life Of The Soul.

Though The Mills Of God Grind Slowly, Yet They Grind Exceeding Small; Though With Patience He Stands Waiting, With Exactness Grinds He All.

Sang In Tones Of Deep Emotion Songs Of Love And Songs Of Longing.

Perseverance Is A Great Element Of Success. If You Only Knock Long Enough And Loud Enough At The Gate, You Are Sure To Wake Up Somebody.