The closed door and the sealed lips are prerequisites to tyranny.
This world o' God's is brighter Than we ever dream or know; Its burdens growin' lighter- An' it's Love that makes 'em so! An' I'm thankful that I'm livin' Where Love's blessedness I see, 'Neath a Heaven that's forgivin' Where the bells ring 'Home' to me!
So many creeds like the weeds in the sod - so many temples, and only one God.