The Rose Bowl is the only bowl I've ever seen that I didn't have to clean.

He who laughs.....lasts.

It's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have...One pair that see through closed doors. Another in the back of her head...and, of course, the ones in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and reflect 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word.

Time. It hangs heavy for the bored, eludes the busy, flies by the for young, and runs out for the aged.

In the South Pacific, because of their size, mosquitoes are required to file flight plans.

Most mothers entering the labor market outside the home are naive. They stagger home each evening, holding mail in their teeth, the cleaning over their arm, a lamb chop defrosting under each armpit, balancing two gallons of frozen milk between their knees, and expect one of the kids to get the door.

. . . but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute - look at it and really see it - live it - and never give it back.