Society Is Like A Lawn,

I Consider A Story Merely As A Frame On Which To Stretch My Materials.

A Mother Is The Truest Friend We Have When Trials, Heavy And Sudden, Fall Upon Us; When Adversity Takes The Place Of Prosperity.

The Indians With Surprise Found The Mouldering Trees Of Their Forests Suddenly Teeming With Ambrosial Sweet; And Nothing, I Am Told, Can Exceed The Greedy Relish With Which They Banquet For The First Time Upon This Unbought Luxury Of The Wilderness.

The Tie Which Links Mother And Child Is Of Such Pure And Immaculate Strength As To Be Never Violated, Except By Those Whose Feelings Are Withered By Vitiated Society. Holy, Simple, And Beautiful In Its Construction, It Is The Emblem Of All We Can Imagine Of Fidelity And Truth.

I've Had It With You And Your Emotional Constipation!