Wonderful Things, Horses. Never Know What They

It's A Mystery To Me How Anyone Ever Gets Any Nourishment In This Place. They Must Eat Their Meals Standing Up By The Window So As To Be Sure Of Not Missing Anything.

Words, Mademoiselle, Are Only The Outer Clothing Of Ideas.

As Life Goes On It Becomes Tiring To Keep Up The Character You Invented For Yourself, And So You Relapse Into Individuality And Become More Like Yourself Everyday.

I'm Sure You Have A Theme: The Theme Of Your Life. You Can Embellish It Or Desecrate It, But It's Your Theme, And As Long As You Follow It, You Will Experience Harmony And Peace Of Mind.

It's What's In *yourself* That Makes You Happy Or Unhappy.