Truthfulness Is Godliness.

All Things In The Natural World Symbolize God, Yet None Of Them Speak Of Him But In Broken And Imperfect Words. High Above All He Sits, Sublimer Than Mountains, Grander Than Storms, Sweeter Than Blossoms And Tender Fruits, Nobler Than Lords, Truer Than Parents, More Loving Than Lovers. His Feet Tread The Lowest Places Of The Earth; But His Head Is Above All Glory, And Everywhere He Is Supreme.

It Is Not Work That Kills Men; It Is Worry. Work Is Healthy; You Can Hard Put More Upon A Man Than He Can Bear. Worry Is Rust Upon The Blade. It Is Not The Revolution That Destroys The Machinery, But The Friction.

To The Great Tree-loving Fraternity We Belong. We Love Trees With Universal And Unfeigned Love, And All Things That Do Grow Under Them Or Around Them - The Whole Leaf And Root Tribe. Not Alone When They Are In Their Glory, But In Whatever State They Are - In Leaf, Or Rimed With Frost, Or Powdered With Snow, Or Crystal-sheathed In Ice, Or In Severe Outline Stripped And Bare Against A November Sky - We Love Them.

The God Of The Bible Is A Moral Monstrosity.

Flowers . . . Have A Mysterious And Subtle Influence Upon The Feelings, Not Unlike Some Strains Of Music. They Relax The Tenseness Of The Mind. They Dissolve Its Rigor.