I Want To Be Pure In Heart

Flowers Always Have It - Poise, Completion, Fulfillment, Perfection . . .

Him That I Love, I Wish To Be Free -- Even From Me.

Why Is Life Speeded Up So? Why Are Things So Terribly, Unbearably Precious That You Can't Enjoy Them But Can Only Wait Breathless In Dread Of Their Going?

In The Sheltered Simplicity Of The First Days After A Baby Is Born, One Sees Again The Magical Closed Circle, The Miraculous Sense Of Two People Existing Only For Each Other.

I Find The Weight Of Air/almost Too Great To Bear.