When you're poor, you feel bad.
When you become rich and you don't share your riches with others, you become a sinner.
And that is the worst.

Let me say I am here, (1) By God’s appointment, (2) In His keeping, (3) Under His training,

People like Eunice just never had quite figured out how to get along in the world. They might be perfectly intelligent, but they were subject to speckles and flushes; their purses resembled wastepaper baskets; they stepped on their own skirts.

The memory of the pain did not destroy the reality of the pleasure; grief did not obliterate joy.

Written By Orson Scott Card

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