If The Voice Of The Brook Was

No Winter Lasts Forever; No Spring Skips Its Turn.

Each New Season Grows From The Leftovers From The Past. That Is The Essence Of Change, And Change Is The Basic Law.

To Know After Absence The Familiar Street And Road And Village And House Is To Know Again The Satisfaction Of Home.

There Are No Limits To Either Time Or Distance, Except As Man Himself May Make Them. I Have But To Touch The Wind To Know These Things.

If You Would Know Strength And Patience, Welcome The Company Of Trees.