In the long run men hit only what they aim at.

It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves.

Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us.

When Christ ascended Triumphantly from star to star He left the gates of Heaven ajar.

Authors must not, like Chinese soldiers, expect to win victories by turning somersets in the air.

Life like an empty dream flits by.

The thoughts of Youth are long, long thoughts