Let there be many windows to your soul, that all the glory of the world may beautify it.

There's one sad truth in life I've found While journeying east and west - The only folks we really wound Are those we love the best. We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest, And deal full many a thoughtless blow To those who love us best.

So many gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind while just the art of being kind is all the sad world needs.

Always continue to climb.

Better than glory, or honors, or fame, (Though I am striving for those to-day) To know that some heart will cherish my name, And think of me kindly, with blessings, alway.

There is new strength, repose of mind, and inspiration in fresh apparel.

Talk happiness. The world is sad enough without your woe. No path is wholly rough.