The Heart Of Religion Lies In Its

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, A Bulwark Never Failing; Our Helper He, Amid The Flood Of Mortal Ills Prevailing: For Still Our Ancient Foe Doth Seek To Work Us Woe; His Craft And Power Are Great, And, Armed With Cruel Hate, On Earth Is Not His Equal.

If Anyone Could Have Gained Heaven As A Monk, Then I Would Indeed Have Been Among Them.

To Comfort A Sorrowful Conscience Is Much Better Than To Possess Many Kngdoms; Yet The World Regards It Not; Nay, Condemns It, Calling Us Rebels, Dissturbers Of The Peace.

A Lie Is Like A Snow-ball; The Longer It Is Rolled, The Larger It Is.

Those With Prodigious Skill In Music Are Better Suited For All Things.