Maxioms by Henry Ward Beecher
A tool is but the extension of a man's hand, and a machine is but
a complex tool. And read more
A tool is but the extension of a man's hand, and a machine is but
a complex tool. And he that invents a machine augments the power
of a man and the well-being of mankind.
Many men are mere warehouses full of merchandise--the head, the
heart, are stuffed with goods. . . . There read more
Many men are mere warehouses full of merchandise--the head, the
heart, are stuffed with goods. . . . There are apartments in
their souls which were once tenanted by taste, and love, and joy,
and worship, but they are all deserted now, and the rooms are
filled with earthy and material things.
A cup of coffee - real coffee - home-browned, home ground, home made, that comes to you dark as a read more
A cup of coffee - real coffee - home-browned, home ground, home made, that comes to you dark as a hazel-eye, but changes to a golden bronze as you temper it with cream that never cheated, but was real cream from its birth, thick, tenderly yellow, perfectly sweet, neither lumpy nor frothing on the Java: such a cup of coffee is a match for twenty blue devils and will exorcise them all.
God appoints our graces to be nurses to other men's weaknesses.
God appoints our graces to be nurses to other men's weaknesses.
Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
