What Is Life But A Series Of

I Aint Such A Mug As To Put Up My Children To All I Know Myself.

All My Life Affection Has Been Showered Upon Me, And Every Forward Step I Have Made Has Been Taken In Spite Of It.

Miracles, In The Sense Of Phenomena We Cannot Explain, Surround Us On Every Hand: Life Itself Is The Miracle Of Miracles.

But A Mother Is Like A Broomstick Or Like The Sun In The Heavens, It Does Not Matter Which As Far As One's Knowledge Of Her Is Concerned: The Broomstick Is There And The Sun Is There; And Whether The Child Is Beaten By It Or Warmed And Enlightened By It, It Accepts It As A Fact In Nature, And Does Not Conceive It As Having Had Youth, Passions, And Weaknesses, Or As Still Growing, Yearning, Suffering, And Learning.

Telling The Truth Is The Funniest Joke In The World.