Only People Unhappy In The Present Seek

Percy Climbed The First Step, Then The Next, Remembering The Thousands Of Times She'd Run Through The Door, In A Hurry To Get To The Future, To Whatever Was Coming Next, To This Moment.

I'd Pretty Much Given Up Hope Of Being Published, So I Just Wrote The Book I Wanted To Read.

Hope, How She Had Grown To Hate The Word. It Was An Insideious Seed Planted Inside A Person's Soul, Surviving Covertly On Little Tending, Then Flowering So Spectacularly That None Could Help But Cherish It.

But Everyone's An Expert With The Virtue Of Hindsight . . . .

It Was Such A Pleasure To Sink One's Hands Into The Warm Earth, To Feel At One's Fingertips The Possibilities Of The New Season.