What shall I do with all the days and hours That must be counted ere I see thy face? How shall I charm the interval that lowers Between this time and that sweet time of grace?

In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite. -Paul Dirac.

Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.

The judge's duty is to inquire about the time, as well as the facts.

With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return All we have built as we discern.

It seems that we learn lessons when we least expect them but always when we need them the most, and, the true gift in these lessons always lies in the learning process itself.

I'd rather give my life than be afraid to give it.

And they were canopied by the blue sky, So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful, That God alone was to be seen in Heaven.

A difference of taste in jokes is a great strain on the affections.

Feast of All Saints From every pulpit in the land it needs to be thundered forth that God still lives, that God still observes, ... still reigns. Faith is now in the crucible, it is being tested by fire, and there is no fixed... resting place for the heart and mind but in the Throne of God. What is needed now, as never before, is a full, positive, constructive setting forth of the Godhood of God.

The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul.

Feast of John Vianney, Curè d'Ars, 1859 I love my God, but with no love of mine For I have none to give; I love Thee, Lord, but all that love is Thine, For by Thy life I live. I am as nothing, and rejoice to be Emptied and lost and swallowed up in Thee.

Youth is to all the glad reason of life; but often only by what it hopes, not by what it attains, or what it escapes.

For God is not against us because of our sin. He is with us; against our sin.

Never look at the trombones. You'll only encourage them.

Feast of Harriet Monsell of Clewer, Religious, 1883 There is a certain kind of so-called conversion which separates a man from his fellow men. It may fill him with a self-righteousness which rejoices in its own superiority to those who have had no like experience. It may move a man to a Pharisaic self-isolation. There have in fact been not a few so-called conversions as a result of which a man has left the Church to belong to some smaller and holier body. The plain truth is that such a one should very seriously examine himself, if he finds what he regards as his Christian experience separating him from his fellow-men, or his fellow-Christians.

I do not believe that any man fears to be dead, but only the stroke of death.

Before you can break out of prison, you must realize that you are locked up.

You tell your doctor, that y' are ill And what does he, but write a bill, Of which you need not read one letter, The worse the scrawl, the dose the better. For if you knew but what you take, Though you recover, he must break.

It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me. But it can keep him from lynching me, and I think that's pretty important.