The Flowers Of Life Are

The Bed Of Flowers Loosens Amain, The Beauteous Snowdrops Droop O'er The Plain. The Crocus Opens Its Glowing Bud, Like Emeralds Others, Others, Like Blood. With Saucy Gesture Primroses Flare, And Roguish Violets, Hidden With Care; And Whatsoever There Stirs And Strives, The Spring's Contented, If Works And Thrives.

Experience Is Only Half Of Experience.

But One Must Know Where One Stands, And Where The Others Wish To Go.

Nothing Is Worth More Than This Day.

Yet Through Delivery Orators Succeed, I Feel That I Am Far Behind Indeed.