Ports are necessities, like postage stamps or soap, but they seldom seem to care what impressions they make.
The armored cars of dreams, contrived to let us do so many a dangerous thing.
Time to plant tears, says the almanac. The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove and the child draws another inscrutable house.
The pigs stuck out their little feet and snored.
Something needn't be large to be good.
Sometimes it seemsas though only intelligent people are stupid enough to fall in love & only stupid people are intelligent enough to let themselves be loved.