Only the soul that knows the mighty grief can know the mighty rapture. Sorrows come to stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.

He fed his spirit with the bread of books

Three were the fates. Poverty that chains; gray drudgery that grinds the hope away, and gaping ignorance that starves the soul.

The crest and crowning of all good, life's final star, is Brotherhood.

Only the soul that knows the mighty grief can know the mighty rapture. Sorrows come to stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.

No soul can be forever banned, Eternally bereft, Whoever falls from God's right hand Is caught into his left.

Choices are the hinges of destiny.