My mind, tho stable, is gloriously filled w many things 2 write as if this very house in which I sit, blossoms muses like thick garden flowers.... But these things I wish 2 write, like spectors, become but puffs of air as soon as pen touches paper ( Read more... )

"There is in each of us, no matter how humble, a capacity for love. Even if our lives have not taken the course we had envisioned, even if we are less than the shape of our dreams, we are part of the human family. Somewhere, in the most inconsequential corners of our lives, is the opportunity for love.

If I am blind, I can run my hand across the ( Read more... )