It Takes A Lot To Wound A

If Ever You Do Go Back, What Is It You Want Of Evesham?" "do I Know? [...] The Silence, It Might Be ... Or The Stillness. To Have No More Running To Do ... To Have Arrived, And Have No More Need To Run. The Appetite Changes. Now I Think It Would Be A Beautiful Thing To Be Still.

Life Goes Not In A Straight Line, Lad, But In A Circle. The First Half We Spend Venturing As Far As The World's End From Home And Kin And Stillness, And The Latter Half Brings Us Back, By Roundabout Ways But Surely, To That State From Which We Set Out.

Too Much Trust Is Folly, In An Imperfect World.

Beauty Is A Perilous Gift.

The Mountains Of Today Are The Molehills Of Tomorrow.