Not What Man Knows But What Man

I Walk In The Garden, I Look At The Flowers And Shrubs And Trees And Discover In Them An Exquisiteness Of Contour, A Vitality Of Edge, Or A Vigour Of Spring, As Well As An Infinite Variety Of Colour That No Artefact I Have Seen In The Last Sixty Years Can Rival...each Day, As I Look, I Wonder Where My Eyes Were Yesterday.

Taste Begins When Appetite Is Satisfied.

We Usually Meet All Of Our Relatives Only At Funerals Where Somebody Always Observes: "too Bad We Can't Get Together More Often".

I Would Willingly Stand At Street Corners, Hat In Hand, Begging Passerby To Drop Their Unused Minutes Into It.

I Never Felt That There Was Anything Enviable In Youth. I Cannot Recall That Any Of Us, As Youths, Admired Our Condition To Excess Or Had A Desire To Prolong It.