When the world has been unkind, when life’s troubles cloud your mind, Don’t sit down and frown and sigh and moon and mope. Take a walk along the square, fill your lungs with God’s fresh air, Then go whistling back to work and smile and hope.
Civilization is only a pretense; in the crisis, we become mere apes again, forgetting the rational biped of our pretensions and becoming instead the hairy primate at the mouth of the cave, screeching at the enemy, wishing it would go away, fingering the heavy stone that we’ll use the moment it comes close enough.
If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.
