I Believe War Is The Inevitable Fruit

Smell Is A Potent Wizard That Transports You Across Thousands Of Miles And All The Years You Have Lived. The Odors Of Fruits Waft Me To My Southern Home, To My Childhood Frolics In The Peach Orchard. Other Odors, Instantaneous And Fleeting, Cause My Heart To Dilate Joyously Or Contract With Remembered Grief. Even As I Think Of Smells, My Nose Is Full Of Scents That Start Awake Sweet Memories Of Summers Gone And Ripening Fields Far Away.

Of All The Senses, Sight Must Be The Most Delightful.

I Thank God For My Handicaps. For Through Them, I Have Found Myself, My Work And My God.

It Has Been Said That Life Has Treated Me Harshly; And Sometimes I Have Complained In My Heart Because Many Pleasures Of Human Experience Have Been Withheld From Me...if Much Has Been Denied Me, Much, Very Much, Has Been Given Me.

When It Seems That Our Sorrow Is Too Great To Be Borne, Let Us Think Of The Great Family Of The Heavy-hearted Into Which Our Grief Has Given Us Entrance. And Inevitably, We Will Feel About Us Their Arms, Their Sympathy And Their Understanding.