Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.
[The Village Blacksmith, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]
I wish what's inside her head ‒ was as pretty as what's on top of it!
Life is the great "Merry-go-Round" on which we all ride.
If at first you don't succeed ‒ try, try again!
More unhappyness comes from the cowardice of those who are afraid to do right ‒ than from the courage of those doing wrong.
How slow the heavy feet of time to waiting anxious hearts.
Which one of us hasn't run away from something, at one time or another, because we were afraid to stay and "face the music"?
There is a coldness and finality about a written page which plunges the reader to a hasty decision ‒ never reached under the warm explanation of the human voice.
A thousand years may serve to form a joy ‒ an hour may lay it in the dust!
Don't be fooled by the clouds, David ‒ they're just so much mist between you and the Sun! For even though you've no faith in Him ‒ God has given you the right to happiness!
Sometimes God takes us at our word. And it is well to remember if we ask a curse ‒ we get a curse!
None may look upon the Garden of Life and say which plant will bear him flowers ‒ or which thorns.
It's not in the poisoned wine cup, nor the assassin's dagger ‒ that we find real tragedy.
Love is a proud beggar ‒ and will not plead forever.
The Master of the Forge ‒ tries us in the Fire of Life, until the dross is burned ‒ and then transmuted the ashes into gold.
Love is stronger than hate! And there is no heart so closed ‒ no will so locked ‒ no eyes so blind ‒ that God cannot open them!
The unbeliever shall believe ‒ for Truth destroys his false gods!
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