Hmmm, I suppose it is a bit like some kind of bubble. And the strange thing is that the part where the world is biggest, is always right where you are standing. Now look- you stay here and let me take a few paces. See? now my world is the biggest here where I stand, but your...
Treasure your memories and keep them bright. Memory must not be made the scavenger of the past. It must not be prostituted to the foolish purpose of resurrecting the sadness of other days. Do not make of memory a vile ghoul that disinters the bones of error or grief from the grave of...
The gates swung open. I awoke and went out again into the world of men, and all day I sang at my work. ~Muriel Strode (1875–1964),My Little Book of Prayer, 1904 A great hole opened in my brain, weighed down with the double darkness of night and sleep. It expanded to the utter...