When Your Hands Leap Towards Mine, Love,

We Are Dust And To Dust Return. In The End We're Neither Air, Nor Fire, Nor Water, Just Dirt, Neither More Nor Less, Just Dirt, And Maybe Some Yellow Flowers.

What Can I Say Without Touching The Earth With My Hands?

And That's Why I Have To Go Back To So Many Places There To Find Myself And Constantly Examine Myself With No Witness But The Moon And Then Whistle With Joy, Ambling Over Rocks And Clods Of Earth, With No Task But To Live, With No Family But The Road.

The Books That Help You Most Are Those Which Make You Think That Most. The Hardest Way Of Learning Is That Of Easy Reading; But A Great Book That Comes From A Great Thinker Is A Ship Of Thought, Deep Freighted With Truth And Beauty.

I Need The Sea Because It Teaches Me