But The More Poetry One Reads The

To Long For Everything: Sorrow; To Accept Everything: Joy.

I Love The Evening Star. Does That Sound Foolish? I Used To Go Into The Backyard, After Sunset, And Wait For It Until It Shone Above The Dark Gum Tree. I Used To Whisper 'there You Are, My Darling.' And Just In That First Moment It Seemed To Be Shining For Me Alone. It Seemed To Understand This ... Something Which Is Like Longing, And Yet It Is Not Longing. Or Regret - It Is More Like Regret.

I Must Say, I Hate Money. But It's The Lack Of It I Hate Most.

I Love This Place; I Love Mountains And Big Skies And Forests. And The Weather Is Still Supremely Beautiful Even Though The Lower Peaks Are Powdered With Fresh Snow. But Heavens! What Sun. It Never Has An Ending. I Am Basking At This Minute - Half Past Four - Too Hot Without A Hat, & The Sky Is That Transparent Blue Only To Be Seen In Autumn - The Forest Trees Steeped In Light.

The Whole World Shall Be Ours Because Of Our Love.