God Is Not A Dead

Since Love First Made The Breast An Instrument Of Fierce Lamenting, By Its Flame My Heart Was Molten To A Mirror, Like A Rose I Pluck My Breast Apart, That I May Hang This Mirror In Your Sight.

It Is The Mysterious Touch Of The Ideal That Animates And Sustains The Real, And Through It Alone We Can Discover And Affirm The Ideal.

Rise Above Sectional Interests And Private Ambitions... Pass From Matter To Spirit. Matter Is Diversity; Spirit Is Light, Life And Unity.

Human Intellect Is Natures Attempt At Self Criticism

Man Is Primarily Governed By Passion And Instinct.