She Was Richer In Those Dreams Than

The Woods Are Never Solitary — They Are Full Of Whispering, Beckoning, Friendly Life. But The Sea Is A Mighty Soul, Forever Moaning Of Some Great, Unshareable Sorrow, Which Shuts It Up Into Itself For All Eternity. We Can Never Pierce Its Infinite Mystery — We May Only Wander, Awed And Spellbound, On The Outer Fringe Of It. The Woods Call To Us With A Hundred Voices, But The Sea Has One Only — A Mighty Voice.

There Are Many Worse Friends Than The Soft, Silent, Furry, Cat-folk.

It's All Very Well To Read About Sorrows And Imagine Yourself Living Through Them Heroically, But It's Not So Nice When You Really Come To Have Them, Is It?

I Can't Help Flying Up On The Wings Of Anticipation. It's As Glorious As Soaring Through A Sunset... Almost Pays For The Thud.

Houses Are Like People - Some You Like And Some You Don't Like - And Once In A While There Is One You Love.