And That Heart Which Was

You Will Have Five Hundred Million Little Bells, And I Shall Have Five Hundred Million Springs Of Fresh Water.

If Some One Loves A Flower Of Which Just One Example Exists Among All The Millions And Millions Of Stars, That's Enough To Make Him Happy When He Looks At The Stars. He Tells Himself, "my Flower's Up There Somewhere. . . ." But If The Sheep Eats The Flower, Then For Him It's As If, Suddenly, All The Stars Went Out. And That Isn't Important?

If A Composer Suffers From Loss Of Sleep And His Sleeplessness Induces Him To Turn Out Masterpieces, What A Profitable Loss It Is!

When One Wishes To Play The Wit, He Sometimes Wander A Little From The Truth.

A Single Event Can Awaken Within Us A Stranger Totally Unknown To Us.