Fate Gave, What Chance Shall Not Control,

Nature Herself Seems, I Say, To Take The Pen Out Of His Hand, And To Write For Him With Her Own Bare, Sheer, Penetrating Power.

Was Christ A Man Like Us?-ah! Let Us Try If We Then, Too, Can Be Such Men As He!

Culture Looks Beyond Machinery, Culture Hates Hatred; Culture Has One Great Passion--the Passion For Sweetness And Light. It Has One Even Yet Greater, The Passion For Making Them All Prevail. It Is Not Satisfied Till We All Come To A Perfect Man; It Knows That The Sweetness And Light Of The Few Must Be Imperfect Until The Raw And Unkindly Masses Of Humanity Are Touched With Sweetness And Light.

But Often, In The World’s Most Crowded Streets, But Often, In The Din Of Strife, There Rises An Unspeakable Desire After The Knowledge Of Our Buried Life; A Thirst To Spend Our Fire And Restless Force In Tracking Out Our True, Original Course; A Longing To Inquire Into The Mystery Of This Heart Which Beats So Wild, So Deep In Us—to Know Whence Our Lives Come And Where They Go.

All The Biblical Miracles Will At Last Disappear With The Progress Of Science.