February is the uncertain month, neither black nor white but all shades between by turns. Nothing is sure.

Security isn't a thing you get and hold onto. You have to let it go and earn it again, over and over.

April is the two-week-old kitten, the month-old lamb, the six-month-old heifer, the two-year-old girl. Too young to know it has either past or future, it wears the ribbon of the fleeting present as part of itself.

Loving somebody is the beginning of everything.

February is the uncertain month, neither black nor white but all shades between by turns. Nothing is sure.

The past has been given to us. The future must be built, as others have built our past.

Nothing lasts forever on this earth. But whatever's good comes back every once in a while if you let it.