Men's private self-worlds are rather like our geographical world's seasons, storm, and sun, deserts, oases, mountains and abysses, the endless-seeming plateaus, darkness and light, and always the sowing and the reaping.

Most of us forget to take time for wonder, praise and gratitude until it is almost too late. Gratitude is a many-colored quality, reaching in all directions. It goes out for small things and for large; it is a God-ward going.

the one universal form of art is music.

Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.

Every generation proclaims that each must lead his own life, but seldom grants the subsequent generation the right to lead theirs.

Occasionally the impossible happens; this is a truism that accounts for much of what we call good luck; and also, bad.

You cannot contribute anything to the ideal condition of mind and heart known as Brotherhood, however much you preach, posture, or agree, unless you live it.