Age: I Go Slower As Time Goes

A Small Boy Puts His Hand On The Wall, And Looks Down Intently As He Wriggles His Toes. The Birth Of Thought?

It Is Hard To Tell Truth, And Hard Not To.

Attachments And Bereavements Are Inseparable.

I Know God Exits, But I Don't Know Where.

City People Make Most Of The Fuss About The Charms Of Country Life.