Imagination Is The Only True Thing In

When She Walked...she Stretched Out Long And Thin Like A Little Tiger, And Held Her Head High To Look Over The Grass As If She Were Treading The Jungle.

The Thing That Teases The Mind Over And Over For Years, And At Last Gets Itself Put Down Rightly On Paper - Whether Little Or Great, It Belongs To Literature.

To Let God Make Us, Instead Of Painfully Trying To Make Ourselves; To Follow The Path That His Love Shows Us, Instead Of Through Conceit Or Cowardice Or Mockery Choosing Another; To Trust Him For Our Strength And Fitness As The Flowers Do, Simply Giving Ourselves Back To Him In Grateful Service,—this Is To Keep The Laws That Give Us The Freedom Of The City In Which There Is No Longer Any Night Of Bewilderment Or Ignorance Or Uncertainty.

Who Was It Said That You Never Get To A Place Until A Day After You Come, Nor Leave It Until A Day After You Go?

It Does Seem So Pleasant To Talk With An Old Acquaintance Who Knows What You Know. I See So Many New Folks Nowadays Who Seem To Have Neither Past Nor Future. Conversation Has Got To Have Some Root In The Past, Or Else You Have Got To Explain Every Remark You Make, And It Wears A Person Out.