It Takes Courage To Grow Up And

Peering From Some High Window; At The Gold Of November Sunset (and Feeling That If Day Has To Become Night This Is A Beautiful Way).

Love Is The Voice Under All Silences, The Hope Which Has No Opposite In Fear. . .

The Theory Of The Free Press Is Not That The Truth Will Be Presented Completely Or Perfectly In Any One Instance, But That The Truth Will Emerge From Free Discussion

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled, Gladly Beyond

Really Unreal World, Will You Perhaps Do The Breathing For Me While I Am Away?