Fan The Sinking Flame Of Hilarity With

He Was Wise Enough To Know That Nothing Ever Happened On This Globe, For Good, At Which Some People Did Not Have Their Fill Of Laughter In The Outset

On The Eve Of Long Voyages Or An Absence Of Many Years, Friends Who Are Tenderly Attached Will Seperate With The Usual Look, The Usual Pressure Of The Hand, Planning One Final Interview For The Morrow, While Each Well Knows That It Is But A Poor Feint To Save The Pain Of Uttering That One Word, And The Meeting Will Never Be. Should Possibilities Be Worse To Bear Than Certainties?

There Either Is Or Is Not, That’s The Way Things Are. The Colour Of The Day. The Way It Felt To Be A Child. The Saltwater On Your Sunburnt Legs. Sometimes The Water Is Yellow, Sometimes It’s Red. But What Colour It May Be In Memory, Depends On The Day. I’m Not Going To Tell You The Story The Way It Happened. I’m Going To Tell It The Way I Remember It.

Grief Never Mended No Broken Bones.

I Hope That Real Love And Truth Are Stronger In The End Than Any Evil Or Misfortune In The World.