I Don't Give A Damn About Semi-radicals!

What A Joy It Is To Feel The Soft, Springy Earth Under My Feet Once More, To Follow Grassy Roads That Lead To Ferny Brooks Where I Can Bathe My Fingers In A Cataract Of Rippling Notes, Or To Clamber Over A Stone Wall Into Green Fields That Tumble And Roll And Climb In Riotous Gladness!

When One Doors Closes, Another Door Opens.

As The Eagle Was Killed By The Arrow Winged With His Own Feather, So The Hand Of The World Is Wounded By Its Own Skill.

I Fall, I Stand Still... I Trudge On. I Gain A Little... I Get More Eager And Climb Higher And Begin To See The Widening Horizon. Every Struggle Is A Victory.

Every One Of Us Is Blind And Deaf Until Our Eyes Are Opened To Our Fellowmen, Until Our Ears Hear The Voice Of Humanity.