I Only Appear To Be Dead.

I Never Dreamed Of So Much Happiness When I Was The Ugly Duckling!

When The Bird Of The Heart Begins To Sing, Too Often Will Reason Stop Up Her Ears.

We Haven't Yet Got Eyes That Can Gaze Into All The Splendour That God Has Created, But We Shall Get Them One Day; And That Will Be The Finest Fairy Tale Of All, For We Shall Be In It Ourselves.

Most Of The People Who Will Walk After Me Will Be Children, So Make The Beat Keep Time With Short Steps.

Then She Saw A Star Fall, Leaving Behind It A Bright Streak Of Fire. “someone Is Dying,” Thought The Little Girl, For Her Old Grandmother, The Only One Who Had Ever Loved Her, And Who Was Now Dead, Had Told Her That When A Star Falls, A Soul Was Going Up To God.