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Ceremony leads her bigots forth, prepared to fight for shadows of no worth.

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Ceremony Fighting Prepare Shadow Truth

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To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob God of His honor, and is saying in effect that He has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of His own reach.
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I am out of humanity’s reach.I must finish my journey alone,Never hear the sweet music of speech;I start at the sound of my own.
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There is a pleasure in poetic pains / Which only poets know.
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I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?
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The path of sorrow, and that path alone, leads to the land where sorrow is unknown.
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After long drought when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flowers rejoicing all.
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Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, but God never will.
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Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour;
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There is mercy in every place. And mercy, encouraging thought gives even affliction a grace and reconciles man to his lot.
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The still small voice is wanted.
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In a fleshly tomb, I am buried above ground.
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