You Are The Bows From Which Your

The Biggest Thing In Today's Sorrow Is The Memory Of Yesterday's Joy.

He Who Requires Urging To Do A Noble Act Will Never Accomplish It.

Love Is The Veil Between Lover And Lover.

You Often Say, "i Would Give, But Only To The Deserving." The Trees In Your Orchard Say Not So, Nor The Flocks In Your Pasture. They Give That They May Live, For To Withhold Is To Perish.

Nature Reaches Out To Us With Welcoming Arms, And Bids Us Enjoy Her Beauty; But We Dread Her Silence And Rush Into The Crowded Cities, There To Huddle Like Sheep Fleeing From A Ferocious Wolf.