I believe in the supreme worth of the individual and in his right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
I believe that every right implies a responsibility; every opportunity, an obligation; every possession, a duty.
I believe that the law was made for man and not man for the law; that
government is the servant of the people and not their master.
I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that
the world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity
to make a living.
I believe that thrift is essential to well ordered living and that
economy is a prime requisite of a sound financial structure, whether in
government, business or personal affairs.
I believe that truth and justice are fundamental to an enduring social order.
I believe in the sacredness of a promise, that a man’s word should be
as good as his bond; that character — not wealth or power or position —
is of supreme worth.
I believe that the rendering of useful service is the common duty of
mankind and that only in the purifying fire of sacrifice is the dross of
selfishness consumed and the greatness of the human soul set free.
I believe in an all-wise and all-loving God, named by whatever name,
and that the individual’s highest fulfillment, greatest happiness, and
widest usefulness are to be found in living in harmony with His will.
I believe that love is the greatest thing in the world; that it alone
can overcome hate; that right can and will triumph over might.
My oldest daughter has a neighbor who has this tree. I was hoping that it was a tree that grew bottles of Relax Riesling. No such luck. She just hangs the empties. Why? I have no idea, but I love seeing those blue bottles.
When I was a kid, every time we passed an abandoned farmstead, my grandmother would always say, "Someone was happy there once." I always liked to imagine kids playing in the yard, or folks sitting on the porch. As an adult, I can see what a positive spin Grandma put on what was a sad situation. Obviously, the farmstead was in decay, the house collapsing on itself, and nothing but empty prairies around it. Yet, Grandma chose to concentrate on what it had meant to someone. I like that.
I told you Picasa has all kinds of new editing features. This picture was just a beer bottle on the picnic table. I love the fact that the editing makes it look like a painting. (Maybe a photo like this could teach me to paint???)
With apologies-- it's my birthday and the quote just works! There are all kinds of new features on Picasa and I have been playing with very ho hum photos. I have to admit that if I had a bit of artistic talent, I would love to paint. Picasa is now allowing me to do that without the artistic skill. Stay tuned.