The Road To The Promised

Pooh! Grown-ups Are Always Thinking Of Uninteresting Explanations.

The Enemy Will Not See You Vanish Into God's Company Without An Effort To Reclaim You.

While We Are Actually Subjected To Them, The 'moods' And 'spirits' Of Nature Point No Morals. Overwhelming Gaiety, Insupportable Grandeur, Sombre Desolation Are Flung At You. Make What You Can Of Them, If You Must Make At All. The Only Imperative That Nature Utters Is, 'look. Listen. Attend.

A Clever Arrangement Of Bad Eggs Will Never Make A Good Omelet.

They Were Pretty Tired By Now Of Course; But Not What I’d Call Bitterly Tired – Only Slow And Feeling Very Dreamy And Tired As One Does When One Is Coming To The End Of A Long Day In The Open.