Storms Probably Exist Only Because After Them

A Very Long Time Ago, Grandmother Had Wanted To Tell About All The Things They Did, But No One Had Bothered To Ask. And Now She Had Lost The Urge.

You Must Go On A Long Journey Before You Can Really Find Out How Wonderful Home Is.

She Started Thinking About All The Euphemisms For Death, All The Anxious Taboos That Had Always Fascinated Her. It Was Too Bad You Could Never Have An Intelligent Discussion On The Subject. People Were Either Too Young Or Too Old, Or Else They Didn't Have Time.

Lie On The Bridge And Watch The Water Flowing Past. Or Run, Or Wade Through The Swamp In Your Red Boots. Or Roll Yourself Up And Listen To The Rain Falling On The Roof. It's Very Easy To Enjoy Yourself.

My Bag Was As Light As My Happy-go-lucky Heart.