Make us happy and you make us good.

Best be yourself, imperial, plain, and true.

I hold that a man should strive to the uttermost for his life's set prize.

Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?

I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,- what time, what circuit first, I ask not; but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.

Shakespeare was of us, Milton was of us, Burns, Shelley, were with us. They watch from their graves!

The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false.