Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.

Kind hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the flowers, Kind deeds are the fruits, Take care of your garden And keep out the weeds, Fill it with sunshine, Kind words, and Kind deeds.

Death is the chillness that precedes the dawn; We shudder for a moment, then awake In the broad sunshine of the other life.

The heart, like the mind, has a memory. And in it are kept the most precious keepsakes.

The poor too often turn away unheard, From hearts that shut against them with a sound That will be heard in heaven.

If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets.