Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.

I make bean stalks, I'm A builder, like yourself.

Beautiful as a dandelion-blossom golden in the green grass, this life can be.

Life must go on; I forget just why.

I would blossom if I were a rose.

I had a little sorrow, Born of a little sin.

I find that I never lose Bach. I don't know why I have always loved him so. Except that he is so pure, so relentless and incorruptible, like a principle of geometry.