In my belief, a harvest is also a legacy, for very often what you reap is, in the way of small miracles, more than you consciously know you have sown.
the one universal form of art is music.
Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.
Sometimes there is a greater lack of communication in facile talking than in silence.
Kissing tends to bring on woolgathering, even amnesia.
The shadow of fear and uncertainty lies over most of us; for us the future seems far from being as clear and open as we believed it would be.