We Who Love Him Beheld Him With

Prayer Is The Song Of The Heart. It Reaches The Ear Of God Even If It Is Mingled With The Cry And The Tumult Of A Thousand Men.

A Look Which Reveals Inward Stress Adds More Beauty To The Face, No Matter How Much Tragedy And Pain It Bespeaks; But The Face Which, In Silence, Does Not Announce Hidden Mysteries Is Not Beautiful, Regardless Of The Symmetry Of Its Features.

We Wanderers, Ever Seeking The Lonelier Way, Begin No Day Where We Have Ended Another Day; And No Sunrise Finds Us Where Sunset Left Us.

And When You Were A Silent Word Upon Life's Quivering Lips, I Too Was There, Another Silent Word. Then Life Uttered Us And We Came Down The Years Throbbing With Memories Of Yesterday And With Longing For Tomorrow, For Yesterday Was Death Conquered And Tomorrow Was Birth Pursued.

God Listens Not To Your Words Save When He Himself Utters Them Through Your Lips.