Something the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn; Something with passion clasp, or perish And in itself to ashes burn.

Love makes its record in deeper colors as we grow out of childhood into manhood.

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

The holiest of holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart; The secret anniversaries of the heart.

Gone are the living, but the dead remain, And not neglected; for a hand unseen, Scattering its bounty like a summer rain, Still keeps their graves and their remembrance green.

Difficulty on the way to victory is opportunity for God to work

Youth comes but once a life time. Perhaps, but it remains strong in many for their entire lives.