The Eighteen Years He Has Lived Seem

...she Thought That Something Unexpressed In Herself Came Forth And Became A Part Of An Unexpressed Something In Them.

On The Trees Are Only A Few Gnarled Apples That The Pickers Have Rejected. They Look Like The Knuckles Of Doctor Reefy's Hands. One Nibbles At Them And They Are Delicious. Into A Little Round Place At The Side Of The Apple Has Been Gathered All Its Sweetness. One Runs From Tree To Tree Over The Frosted Ground Picking The Gnarled, Twisted Apples And Filling His Pockets With Them. Only The Few Know The Sweetness Of The Twisted Apples.

I Am A Lover And Have Not Found My Thing To Love.

Work Accomplished Means Little. It Is In The Past. What We All Want Is The Glorious And Living Present.

It Was A Cold Day But The Sun Was Out And The Trees Were Like Great Bonfires Against Gray Distant Fields And Hills.