Flowers Are Sent To Do God's Work

Books Are The True Metempsychosis,--they Are The Symbol And Presage Of Immortality. The Dead Men Are Scattered, And None Shall Find Them. Behold They Are Here! They Do But Sleep.

The Clearest Window That Ever Was Fashioned If It Is Barred By Spiders' Webs, And Hung Over With Carcasses Of Insects, So That The Sunlight Has Forgotten To Find Its Way Through, Of What Use Can It Be? Now, The Church Is God's Window; And If It Is So Obscured By Errors That Its Light Is Darkness, How Great Is That Darkness!

Though Cares And Sorrows E'er Must Come, Though Heart Be Rent, I Know That God Will Give Me Strength, When Mine Is Spent.

One Might As Well Attempt To Calculate Mathematically The Contingent Forms Of The Tinkling Bits Of Glass In A Kaleidoscope As To Look Through The Tube Of The Future And Foretell Its Pattern.

No Town Can Fail Of Beauty, Though Its Walks Were Gutters And Its Houses Hovels, If Venerable Trees Make Magnificent Colonnades Along Its Streets.