My Worthy Friend, Gray Are

Our Hands We Open Of Our Own Free Will, And The Good Flies, Which We Can Never Recall.

The Worst Is That The Very Hardest Thinking Will Not Bring Thoughts. They Must Come Like Good Children Of God And Cry, "here We Are." You Expend Effort And Energy Thinking Hard. Then, After You Have Given Up, They Come Sauntering In With Their Hands In Their Pockets. If The Effort Had Not Been Made To Open The Door, However, Who Knows When They Could Have Come.

What Is Part Of You, You Cannot Get Rid Of, Even If You Were To Throw It Away.

A State Of Affairs Which Leads To Daily Vexation Is Not The Right State.

If Only These Treasures Were Not So Fragile As They Are Precious And Beautiful.