To Be Born In A Duck's Nest,

The Whole World Is A Series Of Miracles, But We're So Used To Them We Call Them Ordinary Things.

Far Out In The Ocean, Where The Water Is As Blue As The Prettiest Cornflower, And As Clear As Crystal, It Is Very, Very Deep; So Deep, Indeed, That No Cable Could Fathom It: Many Church Steeples, Piled One Upon Another, Would Not Reach From The Ground Beneath To The Surface Of The Water Above. There Dwell The Sea King And His Subjects.

To Move, To Breathe, To Fly, To Float, To Gain All While You Give, To Roam The Roads Of Lands Remote, To Travel Is To Live.

Every Time A Good Child Dies, An Angel Of God Comes Down To Earth. He Takes The Child In His Arms, Spreads Out His Great White Wings, And Flies With It All Over The Places The Child Loved On Earth. The Angel Plucks A Large Handful Of Flowers, And They Carry It With Them Up To God, Where The Flowers Bloom More Brightly Than They Ever Did On Earth.

The Naive Was Only A Part Of My Fairy Tales; Humour Was The Real Salt In Them.