It stands in the light transfigured, It speaks from the heights above, "Each Soul Is Its Own Redeemer; There Is No Law But Love."

Our lives are songs; God write the words And we set them to music at pleasure; And the song grows glad, or sweet or sad, As we choose to fashion the measure.

Yes, I have dreams. I ofttimes dream of Love As radiant and brilliant as a star. As changeless, too, as that fixed light afar Which glorifies vast worlds of space above.

Always continue to climb.

Unwearied, and with springing steps elate, I had conveyed my wealth along the road. The empty sack proved now a heavier load: I was borne down beneath its worthless weight. I stumbled on, and knocked at Death's dark gate. There was no answer. Stung by sorrow's goad I forced my way into that grim abode, And laughed, and flung Life's empty sack to Fate.

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

Love lights more fire than hate extinguishes.