The probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just.

Here in my heart, my happiness, my house. Here inside the lighted window is my love, my hope, my life. Peace is my companion on the pathway winding to the threshold. Inside this portal dwells new strength in the security, serenity, and radiance of those I love above life itself. Here two will build new dreams--dreams that tomorrow will come true. The world over, these are the thoughts at eventide when footsteps turn ever homeward. In the haven of the hearthside is rest and peace and comfort.

We better know there is a fire whence we see much smoke rising than we could know it by one or two witnesses swearing to it. The witnesses may commit perjury, but the smoke cannot.

Weakness is what keeps driving us to God, by the overwhelming conviction that there just isn't anywhere else to go.

I know there is a God, and that He hates injustice and slavery. I see the storm coming, and I know that his hand is in it. If He has a place and work for me - and I think He has - I believe I am ready.

Nothing new here, except my marrying, which to me is a matter of profound wonder.

Do you think we choose the times into which we are born? Or do we fit the times we are born into?