But One Day We Shall

We Can Do Whatever We Wish To Do Provided Our Wish Is Strong Enough. But The Tremendous Effort Needed- One Doesn't Always Want To Make It-does One? ... But What Else Can Be Done? What's The Alternative? What Do You Want Most To Do? That's What I Have To Keep Asking Myself, In The Face Of Difficulties.

If You Wish To Live, You Must First Attend Your Own Funeral.

The Ostrich Burying Its Head In The Sand Does At Any Rate Wish To Convey The Impression That Its Head Is The Most Important Part Of It.

As In The Physical World, So In The Spiritual World, Pain Does Not Last Forever.

The Fields Are Snowbound No Longer; There Are Little Blue Lakes And Flags Of Tenderest Green. The Snow Has Been Caught Up Into The Sky- So Many White Clouds-and The Blue Of The Sky Is Cold. Now The Sun Walks In The Forest, He Touches The Bows And Stems With His Golden Fingers; They Shiver, And Wake From Slumber. Over The Barren Branches He Shakes His Yellow Curls. Yet Is The Forest Full Of The Sound Of Tears.... A Wind Dances Over The Fields. Shrill And Clear The Sound Of Her Waking Laughter, Yet The Little Blue Lakes Tremble And The Flags Of Tenderest Green Bend And Quiver.