There are many words and definitions I have never lost. But some I am only just beginning to truly understand.
Mary E. PearsonMaybe there was no one way to define it. Maybe there were as many shades of love as the blues of the sky.
Mary E. PearsonOn a small planet, where minute follows minute, day follows day, year follows year, where tradition marches on with a deafening, orderly beat -sometimes the order is disturbed by a dreamer, an artist, a scribbler - sometimes the beat is changed one person at a time.
Mary E. Pearson