The Examined Life Is No Picnic.

I Love This Child. Red-haired - Patient And Gentle Like Her Mother - Fey And Funny Like Her Father. When She Giggles I Can Hear Him When He And I Were Young. I Am Part Of This Child. It May Be Only Because We Share Genes And That Therefore Smell Familiar To Each Other.... It May Be That A Part Of Me Lives In Her In Some Important Way.... But For Now, It's Jelly Beans And 'old Macdonald' That Unite Us.

Imagination Is More Important Than Information. Einstein Said That, And He Should Know. And They Come. And They Look. And We Push. And They Fly. We To Stay And Die On Our Beds. They To Go And Die Howsoever, Yet Inspiring Those Who Come After Them To Find Their Own Edge. And Fly.

Remember, Most Of Us Got Something For Nothing The First Time Just By Showing Up Here At Birth. Now We Have To Qualify.

I Know What I Really Want For Christmas. I Want My Childhood Back. Nobody Is Going To Give Me That. I Might Give At Least The Memory Of It To Myself If I Try. I Know It Doesn't Make Sense, But Since When Is Christmas About Sense, Anyway? It Is About A Child, Of Long Ago And Far Away, And It Is About The Child Of Now. In You And Me. Waiting Behind The Door Of Or Hearts For Something Wonderful To Happen. A Child Who Is Impractical, Unrealistic, Simpleminded And Terribly Vulnerable To Joy.

It Doesn’t Matter What You Say You Believe - It Only Matters What You Do.