Sorrow Was Like The Wind.

I Do Not Understand How Anyone Can Live Without Some Small Place Of Enchantment To Turn To.

But To Make The Intangible Tangible, To Pick The Emotion Out Of The Air And Make It True For Others, Is Both The Blessing And The Curse Of The Writer, For The Thing Between Book Covers Is Never As Beautiful As The Thing He Imagined.

Cross Creek Belongs To The Wind And The Rain, To The Sun And The Seasons, To The Cosmic Secrecy Of Seed, And Beyond All, To Time.

For Myself, The Creek Satisfies A Thing That Had Gone Hungry And Unfed Since Childhood Days. I Am Often Lonely. Who Is Not? But I Should Be Lonelier In The Heart Of A City.

Two Elements Enter Into Successful And Happy Gatherings At Table. The Food, Whether Simple Or Elaborate, Must Be Carefully Prepared; Willingly Prepared; Imaginatively Prepared. And The Guests - Friends, Family Or Strangers - Must Be Conscious Of Their Welcome.