I Thank You, God, In

At Christmas-tide The Open Hand Scatters Its Bounty O'er Sea And Land, And None Are Left To Grieve Alone, For Love Is Heaven And Claims Its Own.

Spring Is Beautiful, And Summer Is Perfect For Vacations, But Autumn Brings A Longing To Get Away From The Unreal Things Of Life, Out Into The Forest At Night With A Campfire And The Rustling Leaves.

Mind Does Dominate Body. We Are Superior To The House In Which We Dwell.

On The Day Long After Childhood When I Suddenly Heard Of His Death, The Sky Grew Dark Above My Head. I Was Walking On A Southern Highway, And A Friend Driving In A Pony Carriage Passed Me, Stopped And Said, "have You Heard That Charles Dickens Is Dead?" It Was As If I Had Been Robbed Of One Of My Dearest Friends.

It Isn't The Thing You Do, Dear, It's The Thing You Leave Undone Which Gives You A Bit Of Heartache At The Setting At The Setting Of The Sun.