Words Are The Mind's Wings, Are They

When It Seems That Our Sorrow Is Too Great To Be Borne, Let Us Think Of The Great Family Of The Heavy-hearted Into Which Our Grief Has Given Us Entrance. And Inevitably, We Will Feel About Us Their Arms, Their Sympathy And Their Understanding.

I Am Not A Perfect Being. . . . I Have More Faults Than I Know What To Do With. I Have A Naughty Temper. I Am Stubborn, Impatient Of Hindrances And Of Stupidity. I Have Not In The Truest Sense A Christian Spirit. I Am Naturally A Fighter. I Am Lazy. I Put Off Till Tomorrow What I Might Better Do Today. I Do Not Feel That I Have Been Compensated For The Two Senses I Lack. I Have Worked Hard For All The Senses I Have Got, And Always I Beg For More.

Life Is Either A Great Adventure Or Nothing.

The Way Forward Is Simple - Just Follow Christ!

Smell Is A Potent Wizard That Transports You Across Thousands Of Miles And All The Years You Have Lived. The Odors Of Fruits Waft Me To My Southern Home, To My Childhood Frolics In The Peach Orchard. Other Odors, Instantaneous And Fleeting, Cause My Heart To Dilate Joyously Or Contract With Remembered Grief. Even As I Think Of Smells, My Nose Is Full Of Scents That Start Awake Sweet Memories Of Summers Gone And Ripening Fields Far Away.