Poverty Is A Veil That

I Sit Between My Brother The Mountain And My Sister The Sea. We Three Are One In Loneliness, And The Love That Binds Us Together Is Deep And Strong And Strange.

Art Is A Step In The Known Toward The Unknown

You Shall Be Held Down By The Chains Of Your Own Judgment.

Your Friend Is Your Field Which You Sow With Love And Reap With Thanksgiving.

Everyone Has Experienced That Truth: That Love, Like A Running Brook, Is Disregarded, Taken For Granted; But When The Brook Freezes Over, Then People Begin To Remember How It Was When It Ran, And They Want It To Run Again.