The truest greatness lies in being kind, the truest wisdom in a happy mind.

Give her not greatness. For great souls must stand Alone and lonely in this little world: Cleft rocks that show the great Creator's hand, Thither by earthquakes hurled.

Change is the watchword of progression.

How happy they are, in all seeming, How gay, or how smilingly proud, How brightly their faces are beaming, These people who make up the crowd!

There is nothing we cannot live down, and rise above, and overcome.

And however dark the skies may appear, And however souls may blunder, I tell you it all will work out clear, For good lies over and under.

When the heart grows weary, all things seem dreary; When the burden grows heavy, the way seems long. Thank God for sending kind death as an ending, Like a grand Amen to a minor song.