I Have Done Nothing; The

This Is True Faith, A Living Confidence In The Goodness Of God.

O, This Faith Is A Living, Busy, Active, Powerful Thing! It Is Impossible That It Should Not Be Ceaselessly Doing That Which Is Good. It Does Not Even Ask Whether Good Works Should Be Done; But Before The Question Can Be Asked, It Has Done Them, And It Is Constantly Engaged In Doing Them. But He Who Does Not Do Such Works, Is A Man Without Faith. He Gropes And Casts About Him To Find Faith And Good Works, Not Knowing What Either Of Them Is, And Yet Prattles And Idly Multiplies Words About Faith And Good Works.

What Is Our Death But A Night's Sleep? For As Through Sleep All Weariness And Faintness Pass Away And Cease, And The Powers Of The Spirit Come Back Again, So That In The Morning We Arise Fresh And Strong And Joyous; So At The Last Day We Shall Rise Again As If We Had Only Slept A Night, And Shall Be Fresh And Strong.

The Word And Works Of God Is Quite Clear, That Women Were Made Either To Be Wives Or Prostitutes.

Why Do You Rant And Brag With Such A Spate Of Words, As If You Wanted To Overwhelm Me With A Sort Of Tempest And Deluge Of Oratory-which Nevertheless Falls With The Greater Force On Your Own Head, While My Ark Rides Aloft In Safety?