Content is not the pathway to great deeds.

Just a little every day That's the way Children learn to read and write Bit by bit and mite by mite.

Why dost thou shrink from my approach, O Man? Why dost thou ever flee in fear, and cling To my false rival, Life? I do but bring Thee rest and calm. Then wherefore dost thou ban And curse me? Since the forming of God's plan I have not hurt or harmed a mortal thing, I have bestowed sweet balm for every sting, And peace eternal for earth's stormy span.

It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack But no one can rate a burden's weight Until it has been on his back

For every hour of pain I have had a day of pleasure. For every moment of worry, an hour of content.

The spark divine dwells in thee: let it grow.

Talk faith. The world is better off without, Your uttered ignorance and morbid doubt.