The President Is The Last Person In

[science] Is The Literature Of God Written On The Stars-the Trees-the Rocks-and More Important Because [of] Its Marked Utilitarian Character.

For Love Of Country, They Accepted Death.

The World's History Is A Divine Poem, Of Which The History Of Every Nation Is A Canto, And Every Man A Word. Its Strains Have Been Pealing Along Down The Centuries, And Though There Have Been Mingled The Discords Of Warring Cannon And Dying Men, Yet To The Christian Philosopher And Historian - The Humble Listener - There Has Been A Divine Melody Running Through The Song Which Speaks Of Hope And Halcyon Days To Come.

Wherever A Ship Ploughs The Sea, Or A Plough Furrows The Field; Wherever A Mine Yields Its Treasure; Wherever A Ship Or A Railroad Train Carries Freight To Market; Wherever The Smoke Of The Furnace Rises, Or The Clang Of The Loom Resounds; Even In The Lonely Garret Where The Seamstress Plies Her Busy Needle--there Is Industry.

The Men Who Succeed Best In Public Life Are Those Who Take The Risk Of Standing By Their Own Convictions.