The best of all the preachers are the men who live their creeds.

I'll obey them in the winter when the doctors say to me I must give up ham and spinach, and obedient I'll be. To relieve my indigestion in December they can try, But there's none of them can stop me when it's time for cherry pie.

Somebody scoffed, Oh, you'll never to that - At least no one ever has done it; But he took off his coat and he took off his hat, And the first thing we knew, he'd begun it.

But keep on working and hoping still. For in spite of the grumblers who stand about, somehow, it seems, all things work out.

Love has the patience to endure the fault it sees but cannot cure.

Who does his task from day to day and meets whatever comes his way, Believing God has willed it so, has found real greatness here below. Who guards his post, no matter where, believing God must need him there, Although but lowly toil it be, has risen to nobility. For great and low there's just one test, 'tis that each man shall do his best, Who works with all the strength he can, shall never die in debt to man.

I'd rather see a sermon than hear one any day; I'd rather one should walk with me than merely tell the way.