It's more fun to think that there are other worlds.
A crooked log makes a strait fire.
Prayer should be the key of the day and the lock of the night.
He that hath not the craft, let him shut up shop.
A discontented man knowes not where to sit easie.
He that commits a fault, thinkes every one speakes of it. [He that commits a fault thinks everyone speaks of it. ]
Thou who hast given so much to me, give me one more thing. . . a grateful heart!
Did you know that from the beginning of time the whole purpose of God was to reproduce Himself?. . . And when we stand up here, brother, you're not looking at Morris Cerullo; you're looking at God. You're looking at Jesus
But you want to know about the influence of books on my life, and as I've said, there was only one. Seneca. . . Maybe that sounds dull, but the letters aren't - they're witty. I think you learn more if you're laughing at the same time.
Grumbling, as things are at present arranged in this world, does not always, nor I might say often, do good.
Far away in Montana, hidden from view by clustering mountain-peaks, lies an unmapped northwestern corner- the Crown of the Continent. The water from the crusted snowdrift which caps the peak of a lofty mountain there trickles into tiny rills, which hurry along north, south, east and west, and growing to rivers, at last pour their currents into three seas. From this mountain-peak the Pacific and the Arctic oceans and the Gulf of Mexico receive each its tribute. Here is a land of striking scenery.