As Roads Go, The Road Home Is

The Mountains Of Today Are The Molehills Of Tomorrow.

Truth, Like The Burgeoning Of A Bulb Under The Soil, However Deeply Sown, Will Make Its Way To The Light.

The Voices Of Cold Reason Were Talking, As Usual, To Deaf Ears.

If Ever You Do Go Back, What Is It You Want Of Evesham?" "do I Know? [...] The Silence, It Might Be ... Or The Stillness. To Have No More Running To Do ... To Have Arrived, And Have No More Need To Run. The Appetite Changes. Now I Think It Would Be A Beautiful Thing To Be Still.

All The Things Of The Wild Have Their Proper Uses. Only Misuse Makes Them Evil.