Marriage Is A Very Long

Being Ill Makes You Feel What Well People Call Sentimental, But What You Feel Is Nonetheless Genuine Whatever They Call It.

There Always Comes, I Think, A Sort Of Peak In Suffering At Which Either You Win Over Your Pain Or Your Pain Wins Over You, According As To Whether You Can, Or Cannot, Call Up That Extra Ounce Of Endurance That Helps You To Break Through The Circle Of Yourself And Do The Hitherto Impossible. That Extra Ounce Carries You Through 'le Dernier Quart D' Heure.' Psychologist Have A Name For It, I Believe. Christians Call It The Grace Of God.

Water, Wind And Birdsong Were The Echoes In This Quiet Place Of A Great Chiming Symphony That Was Surging Around The World. Knee-deep In Grasses And Moon Daisies, Stella Stood And Listened, Swaying A Little As The Flowers And Trees Were Swaying, Her Spirit Voice Singing Loudly, Though Her Lips Were Still, And Every Pulse In Her Body Beating Its Hammer Strokes In Time To The Song.

Not Quite Birds, As They Were Not Quite Flowers, Mysterious And Fascinating As Are All Indeterminate Creatures.

Happy The Man Who Lives Long Enough To Acknowledge His Ignorance