To Be A Person Is To Have

It Is Not A Bad Thing In A Tale That You Understand Only Half Of It.

If There Were One More Thing I Could Do, It Would Be To Go On Safari Once Again.

And Were My Faith So Strong That It Could Move Mountains, That Is The Mountain That I Would Make Come To Me.

God Made The World, My Lord, And Looked At It, And Saw That It Was Good. Yes. But What If The World Had Looked Back At Him, To See Whether He Was Good Or Not?

The Air Was Cold To The Lungs, The Long Grass Dripping Wet, And The Herbs On It Gave Out Their Spiced Astringent Scent. In A Little While On All Sides The Cicada Would Begin To Sing. The Grass Was Me , And The Air, The Distant Invisible Mountains Were Me, The Tired Oxen Were Me. I Breathed With The Slight Night-wind In The Thorn Trees.