Words Are The Most Subtle Symbols Which

The Talk Of Lovers Who Have Just Declared Their Love Is One Of Life's Most Sweet Delights. Each Vies With The Other In Humility, In Amazement At Being So Valued. The Past Is Searched For The First Signs And Each One Is In Haste To Declare All That He Is So That No Part Of His Being Escapes The Hallowing Touch.

I Think Being A Woman Is Like Being Irish. Everyone Says You're Important And Nice, But You Take Second Place All The Same.

In A Happy Marriage There Is A Continuous Dense Magnetic Sense Of Communication.

They Are Universal Places, Like Churches, Hallowed Meeting Places Of All Mankind.

How Different Each Death Is, And Yet It Leads Us Into The Self-same Country, That Country Which We Inhabit So Rarely, Where We See The Worthlessness Of What We Have Long Pursued And Will So Soon Return To Pursuing.