There never was a happier or more devoted husband than the male bluebird. He is the gay champion and escort of the female at all times, and while she is sitting, he feeds her regularly.
If you think you can do it, you can.
All birds are incipient or would-be songsters in the spring. I find corroborative evidence of this even in the crowing of the cock.
Life is a struggle, but not a warfare.
Without the emotion of the beautiful, the sublime, the mysterious, there is no art, no religion, no literature.
If we take science as our sole guide, if we accept and hold fast that alone which is verifiable, the old theology must go.