Christmas is a kindling of new fires.

I cannot imagine a cat in an Obedience ring, running around in the hot sun and doing things on command. For it would not make sense. Whereas a dog is tolerant of your not making sense and only wants to fix things so you are happy.

I know of nothing to compare with the welcome a dog gives you when you come home.

The creative instincts, the love force must be nourished with every beat of our hearts until they overbalance the destructive instincts.

There must be hundreds of unsung heroes and heroines who first tasted strange things growing - and think of the man who first ate a lobster. This staggers the imagination. I salute him every time I take my nutcracker in hand and move the melted-butter pipkin closer.

Happiness of heart can never be measured out and bundled up, it's intangible. We keep running after it, grasping for it, and the heat of our running so seldom brings it closer. But now and then there may be a moment. We look at something and know it is good and beautiful. Those moments are happiness.

History records the large events or the general condition of society, but only an individual can put down the way of life in a small town.