The Night Is A Tunnel

He Who Controls The Spice Controls The Universe.

The Day Hums Sweetly When You Have Enough Bees Working For You.

The Summer Night Comes Brooding Down On Earth, As Love Comes Brooding Down On Human Hearts, With Bliss That Hath No Utterance Save Rich Tears. She Floats In Fragrance Down The Smiling Dark, Foldeth A Kiss Upon The Lips Of Life-- Curtaineth Into Rest The Weary World-- And Shuts Us In With All Our Hid Delights.

Money To A Writer Is Time To Write.

What Is The Son But An Extension Of The Father?