My Grief And My Smile Begin In

A Crippled Child Said, "how Shall I Dance?" Let Your Heart Dance We Said. Then The Invalid Said: "how Shall I Sing?" Let Your Heart Sing We Said Then Spoke The Poor Dead Thistle, "but I, How Shall I Dance?" Let Your Heart Fly To The Wind We Said. Then God Spoke From Above "how Shall I Descend From The Blue?" Come Dance For Us Here In The Light We Said. All The Valley Is Dancing Together Under The Sun, And The Heart Of Him Who Joins Us Not Is Turned To Dust, To Dust.

What The Soul Is To The Body, So Is The Artist To His People.

Speech Is Our Second Possession, After The Soul-and Perhaps We Have No Other Possession In This World.

I Have All That I Lost And I Go Carrying My Childhood Like A Favorite Flower That Perfumes My Hand.

We Are Guilty Of Many Errors And Many Faults, But Our Worst Crime Is Abandoning The Children, Neglecting The Fountain Of Life. Many Of The Things We Need Can Wait. The Child Cannot. Right Now Is The Time His Bones Are Being Formed, His Blood Is Being Made, And His Senses Are Being Developed. To Him We Cannot Answer 'tomorrow.' His Name Is 'today.'