It Is A Splendid Thing To Think

Life Is A Narrow Vale Between The Cold And Barren Peaks Of Two Eternities. We Strive In Vain To Look Beyond The Heights. We Cry Aloud-and The Only Answer Is The Echo Of Our Wailing Cry. From The Voiceless Lips Of The Unreplying Dead There Comes No Word. But In The Night Of Death Hope Sees A Star And Listening Love Can Hear The Rustling Of A Wing.

While I Am Opposed To All Orthodox Creeds, I Have A Creed Myself; And My Creed Is This. Happiness Is The Only Good. The Time To Be Happy Is Now. The Place To Be Happy Is Here. The Way To Be Happy Is To Make Others So. This Creed Is Somewhat Short, But It Is Long Enough For This Life, Strong Enough For This World. If There Is Another World, When We Get There We Can Make Another Creed.

Language Is Not Subtle Enough, Tender Enough, To Express All That We Feel; And When Language Fails, The Highest And Deepest Longings Are Translated Into Music. Music Is The Sunshine - The Climate - Of The Soul, And It Floods The Heart With A Perfect June.

On Every Hand There Seems To Be Design To Defeat Design. If God Created Man - If He Is The Father Of Us All, Why Did He Make The Criminals, The Insane, The Deformed And Idiotic? Should The Mother, Who Clasps To Her Breast An Idiot Child, Thank God?

We All Know That Men In Moderate Circumstances Can Have Just As Comfortable Houses As The Richest, Just As Comfortable Clothing, Just As Good Food. They Can See Just As Fine Paintings, Just As Marvelous Statues, And They Can Hear Just As Good Music. They Can Attend The Same Theaters And The Same Operas. They Can Enjoy The Same Sunshine, And Above All, Can Love And Be Loved Just As Well As Kings And Millionaires.