Everyone In The World Is Christ And

Love Is Like A Wind Stirring The Grass Beneath Trees On A Black Night,' He Had Said. 'you Must Not Try To Make Love Definite. It Is The Divine Accident Of Life. If You Try To Be Definite And Sure About It And To Live Beneath The Trees, Where Soft Night Winds Blow, The Long Hot Day Of Disappointment Comes Swiftly And The Gritty Dust From Passing Wagons Gathers Upon Lips Inflamed And Made Tender By Kisses.

I Am A Lover And Have Not Found My Thing To Love.

Draw Things That Have Some Meaning To You. An Apple, What Does It Mean? The Object Drawn Doesn't Matter So Much. It's What You Feel About It, What It Means To You. A Masterpiece Could Be Made Of A Dish Of Turnips.

You Can Make A Killing As A Playwright In America, But You Can't Make A Living.

Next To Occupation Is The Building Up Of Good Taste. That Is Difficult, Slow Work. Few Achieve It. It Means All The Difference In The World In The End.