War, Like Children's Fights, Are Meaningless, Pitiless,

Every Midwife Knows That Not Until A Mother’s Womb Softens From The Pain Of Labor Will A Way Unfold And The Infant Find That Opening To Be Born. Oh Friend! There Is Treasure In Your Heart, It Is Heavy With Child. Listen. All The Awakened Ones, Like Trusted Midwives Are Saying, 'welcome This Pain. It Opens The Dark Passage Of Grace.

Everyone Has Been Made For Some Particular Work, And The Desire For That Work Has Been Put In Every Heart.

Without The Frown Of Clouds And Lightning, The Vines Would Be Burned By The Smiling Sun.

If All You Can Do Is Crawl, Start Crawling.

Many Of The Faults You See In Others, Dear Reader, Are Your Own Nature Reflected In Them.