Each Time I Think That The Song

Well, Yes: People Write Poems When They Are In Love, But A Wise Man Will Not Print Them.

Death Walks Faster Than The Wind And Never Returns What He Has Taken.

Every Time A Good Child Dies, An Angel Of God Comes Down To Earth. He Takes The Child In His Arms, Spreads Out His Great White Wings, And Flies With It All Over The Places The Child Loved On Earth. The Angel Plucks A Large Handful Of Flowers, And They Carry It With Them Up To God, Where The Flowers Bloom More Brightly Than They Ever Did On Earth.

When The Bird Of The Heart Begins To Sing, Too Often Will Reason Stop Up Her Ears.

My Life Will Be The Best Illustration Of All My Work.