simplicity

Part of the problem today is that we have a surplus of simple answers and a shortage of simple problems.

Progress is a simple thing And all that it requires Is a certain moral blindness To the evil that transpires.

No planning - we eat, sleep and avoid eighteen-wheelers.

Any simple problem can be made unsolvable if enough meetings are held to discuss it. .

You just gotta keep going on. Get up, and do your job. Go to work, get through each day, one day at a time, like that. And you hope that one day, you'll get up and it'll hurt a little less. You just gotta just get through it. You just go on. It's that simple.

You tell on yourself by the friends you seek, By the very manner in which you speak, By the way you employ your leisure time, By the use you make of dollar and dime. You tell what you are by the things you wear, By the spirit in which you your burdens bear, By the kind of things at which you laugh, By the records you play on your phonograph. You tell what you are by the way you walk, By the things of which you delight to talk, By the manner in which you bear defeat, By so simple a thing as how you eat. By the books you choose from a well-filled shelf- In these ways, and more, you tell on yourself. So really there's not a grain of sense In trying to keep up a false pretense.

Happiness is not a matter of good fortune or worldly possessions. It's a mental attitude. It comes from appreciating what we have, instead of being miserable about what we don't have. It's so simple-yet so hard for the human mind to comprehend.

Its a gift to be simple. . . .

Faith is sometimes equated with credulity, but it can be so equated only when the profound mistake is made of thinking of faith as primarily a matter of intellectual assent. As the New Testament uses the word, faith is trust, acceptance, commitment, vision. It is not a belief in this or that creed, it is a quality which lies rather in the realm of intuition than the intellect. Faith has indeed an element of true simplicity; it is one of the qualities - perhaps the fundamental quality - of the child-like spirit without which no man can enter the Kingdom of God.

Men don't believe in the devil now, as their fathers used to do? They've forced the door of the broadest creed to let his majesty through; There isn't a print of his cloven foot, or a fiery dart from his brow, To be found in the earth or air today, for the world has voted so. But who is mixing the fatal draught that palsies heart and brain, And loads the earth of each passing year with ten hundred thousand slain? Who blights the bloom of the land today with the fiery breath of hell. If the devil isn't and never was? Won't somebody rise and tell? Who dogs the steps of the toiling saint, and digs the pits for his feet? Who sows the tares in the field of Time wherever God sows his wheat? The devil is voted not to be, and of course the thing is true; But who is doing the kind of work the devil alone should do? We are told he does not go about as a roaring lion now. But whom shall we hold responsible for the everlasting row To be heard in home, in church, in state, to the earth's remotest bound, If the devil, by a unanimous vote. is nowhere to be found? Won't somebody step to the front forthwith and make his bow and show How the frauds and crime of the day spring up, for surely we want to know. The devil was fairly voted out, and of course the devil's gone; But simple people would like to know who carries his business on.