service

God will have a humble people. Either we can choose to be humble or we can be compelled to be humble. . . . We can choose to humble ourselves by conquering enmity toward our brothers and sisters, esteeming them as ourselves, and lifting them as high or higher than we are. . . . We can choose to humble ourselves by receiving counsel and chastisement, . . . by forgiving those who have offended us, . . . by rendering selfless service, . . . by going on missions and preaching the word that can humble others, . . . by getting to the temple more frequently, [and] by confessing and forsaking our sins and being born of God. . . . We can choose to humble ourselves by loving God, adjusting our will to His, and putting Him first in our lives.

Such to me is the new image of aging; growth in self, and service for all mankind.

Angelic happiness is in service, from service, and according to service.

When scientists are honest, as most of them are, they are well aware of the fact that their competence in science does not give them a clue to the problem of how their science should be used in the service of man. The sensitive visitor to the mesas of Los Alamos is almost sure to meditate on the experience of that gifted man, Klaus Fuchs. Though his work in the laboratories was outstanding, his decision concerning the use of what he knew was disastrous. What if, in addition to his scientific competence, the younger Fuchs had shared something of the Christian conviction of his father, Emil Fuchs? Much of the subsequent history of our earth might then have been different.

The sweetest lives are those to duty wed, Whose deeds, both great and small Are close-knot strands of an unbroken thread There love ennobles all. The world may sound no trumpets, ring no bells The book of life the shining record tells. Thy love shall chant its own beatitudes After its own life-workings. A child's kiss Set on thy sighing lips shall make thee glad; A poor man served by thee shall make thee rich; A sick man helped by thee shall make thee strong; Thou shalt serve thyself by every sense, Of service which thou renderest.

The ruin of the human heart is self-interest, which the American merchant calls self-service. We have become a self-service populace, and all our specious comforts -the automatic elevator, the escalator, the cafeteria -are depriving us of volition and moral and physical energy.

There never was a bad man that had ability for good service.

You ask me for a motto. Here it is: SERVICE.

To give real service you must add something which cannot be bought or measured with money, and that is sincerity and integrity.

On Sunday 8 April 1945, he had just finished conducting a service of worship at Schoenberg, when two soldiers came took him away. As he left, he said to another prisoner, This is the end - but for me, the beginning - of life. He was hanged the next day, less than a week before the Allies reached the camp.