If I Had A Mind

If A Warrior Lacked Wisdom, Courage Alone Would Not Keep Him Alive For Long.

Occasionally The Very Youngness Of The Young Moved Him To Charity--they Had No Sense Of The Swiftness Of Life, Nor Of Its Limits. The Years Would Pass Like Weeks, And Loves Would Pass Too, Or Else Grow Sour.

The Older The Violin, The Sweeter The Music.

The Lives Of Happy People Are Dense With Their Own Doings -- Crowded, Active, Thick. But The Sorrowing Are Nomads, On A Plain With Few Landmarks And No Boundaries; Sorrow's Horizons Are Vague And Its Demands Are Few.

Texas Is Rich In Unredeemed Dreams