My Father Was A Physicist And Also

That's All Nonviolence Is - Organized Love.

Hypothetical Questions Get Hypothetical Answers.

To Sing Is To Praise God And The Daffodils, And To Praise God Is To Thank Him, In Every Note Within My Small Range, And Every Color In The Tones Of My Voice, With Every Look Into The Eyes Of My Audience, To Thank Him. Thank You, God, For Letting Me Be Born, For Giving Me Eyes To See The Daffodils Lean In The Wind, All My Brothers, All My Sisters, For Giving Me Ears To Hear Crying, Legs To Come Running, Hands To Smooth Damp Hair, A Voice To Laugh With And To Sing With...to Sing To You And The Daffodils.

There Is Chaos. There's Bloodshed. There's Carnage.

There's Very Little I Can Sing Now. When I Asked My First Voice Teacher, Who Was The Best One, "when Will I Know When To Stop Singing?" He Said, "your Voice Will Tell You." And It Is Very, Very Difficult To Sing Now.