But Love May Have To Be Left

Now Everybody Has Some Secret Goals In Life...sometimes You Can Get What You Want And What You Need At The Sames Time.

Living Things Have Been Doing Just That For A Long, Long Time. Through Every Kind Of Disaster And Setback And Catastrophe. We Are Survivors.

What I Notice Is That Every Adult Or Child I Give A New Set Of Crayolas To Goes A Little Funny. The Kids Smile, Get A Glazed Look On Their Faces, Pour The Crayons Out, And Just Look At Them For A While....the Adults Always Get The Most Wonderful Kind Of Sheepish Smile On Their Faces--a Mixture Of Delight And Nostalgia And Silliness. And They Immediately Start Telling You About All Their Experiences With Crayolas.

It's Just This: That There Are Places We All Come From-deep-rooty-common Places- That Makes Us Who We Are. And We Disdain Them Or Treat Them Lightly At Our Peril. We Turn Our Backs On Them At The Risk Of Self-contempt. There Is A Sense In Which We Need To Go Home Again-and Can Go Home Again. Not To Recover Home, No. But To Sanctify Memory.

The Sikh Gave Him The Money. When Menon Asked For His Address So That He Could Repay The Man, The Sikh Said That Menon Owed The Debt To Any Stranger Who Came To Him In Need, As Long As He Lived. The Help Came From A Stranger And Was To Be Repaid To A Stranger.