It Receives You When You Come And

Every Word First Looks Around In Every Direction Before Letting Itself Be Written Down By Me.

The Thornbush Is The Old Obstacle In The Road. It Must Catch Fire If You Want To Go Further.

The True Word Leads; The Untrue Misleads.

My Grandfather Used To Say: Life Is Astoundingly Short. To Me, Looking Back Over It, Life Seems So Foreshortened That I Scarcely Understand, For Instance, How A Young Man Can Decide To Ride Over To The Next Village Without Being Afraid That -not To Mention Accidents- Even The Span Of A Normal Happy Life May Fall Far Short Of The Time Needed For Such A Journey.

Written Kisses Never Arrive At Their Destination; The Ghosts Drink Them Up Along The Way.