Childhood Is A Short Season.

The Expert At Anything Was Once A Beginner.

In The Last Stages Of A Final Illness, We Need Only The Absence Of Pain And The Presence Of Family.

The Worst Constructed Play Is A Bach Fugue When Compared To Life.

If You Rest, You Rust.

All Through The Long Winter, I Dream Of My Garden. On The First Day Of Spring, I Dig My Fingers Deep Into The Soft Earth. I Can Feel Its Energy, And My Spirits Soar.