I Sometimes Think It Ironic For An

The Advice I Continually Give To Young Writers Is This, "learn To Paint Pictures With Words." Not Just Once Upon A Time, But ... In The Long Secret Dust Of Ages, Beneath A Blue Forgotten Sky, Where Trade Winds Caress The Sun Bleached Shores Of Unknown Realms ... See, As Much As There Are Words In Poetry, There Is A Poetry In Words. Use It, Stay Faithful To The Path You Have Set Your Heart Upon And Follow It.

I Think That Others Can Drive A Creature To Naughtiness, Always Accusing And Blaming Them. After A While It Must Make The Creature Unhappy And Drive Him...to Be Naughty, Because Nobody Expects Them To Be Good.

I Wrote About A Bird That Cleaned A Crocodile's Teeth. The Story Was So Good That My Teacher Could Not Believe That A Ten-year-old Could Write That Well. I Was Even Punished Because My Teacher Thought I'd Lied About Writing It! I Had Always Loved To Write, But It Was Then That I Realized That I Had A Talent For It.

You Love Young Ones And Babes, I Know This. The Young Will Always Befriend And Admire You...all The Young Ones Of The Earth Belong To You In Friendship. Be Good To Them. —breeze, To Sunflash The Mace

Sometimes The Gift Of An Inquisitive Nature To The Young Can Be Greater Than That Of The Wisdom Which Comes Of Age.