Too many piglets not enough tits.
A fragrant breeze wandered up from the quiet sea, trailed along the beach, and drifted back to the sea again, wondering where to go next. On a mad impulse it went up to the beach again. It drifted back to sea.
A life that is burdened with expectations is a heavy life. Its fruit is sorrow and disappointment.
Did I do anything wrong today," he said, "or has the world always been like this and I've been too wrapped up in myself to notice?
I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is.
Don't believe anything you read on the net. Except this. Well, including this, I suppose.
Why are people born? Why do they die? Why do they want to spend so much of the intervening time wearing digital watches?
The question of love is one that cannot be evaded. Whether or not you claim to be interested in it from the moment you are alive you are bound to be concerned with love because love is not just something that happens to you: It is a certain special way of being alive. Love is in fact an intensification of life a completeness a fullness a wholeness of life.
Stress isn't only a joy stealer. The way we respond to it can be sin.
I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.
A faint blush melting through the light of thy transparent cheek like a rose-leaf bathed in dew.