The million little things that drop into your hands, The small opportunities each day brings, He leaves us free to use or abuse, And goes unchanging along His silent way

If we believe that the sun and moon hang in the sky for our delight, there will be joy upon the hills and gladness in the fields.

I prefer to stroll which has a buddy at nighttime, than by itself inside the light.

We betray ourselves into smallness when we think the little choices of each day are trivial.

I have found out that though the ways in which I can make myself useful are few, yet the work open to me is endless.

We can decide to let our trials crush us, or we can convert them to new forces of good.

It gives me a deep comforting sense that Things seen are temporal and things unseen are eternal.