…Before he reached the town, the stars were out, and the last of the sunset had faded away… “I’ve got to do with them all!” He said to himself, looking up. “There lie the fields of my future, when this chain of gravity is unbound from my feet! Blessed am I here now, my God, and blessed shall I be there then."
When he reached the suburbs, the light of homes was shining through curtains of all colours. “Every nest has its own birds … Every heart its own joys!” Just then, he was in no mood to think of the sorrows. But the sorrows are sickly things and die, while the joys are strong divine children, and shall live for evermore.
—Mary Marston, chapter LVI