Night, When Words Fade And Things Come

If You Want To Build A Ship, Teach The Men To Yearn For The Vast And Endless Sea.

The Arms Of Love Encompass You With Your Present, Your Past, Your Future, The Arms Of Love Gather You Together.

Peace Is Present When Things Form Part Of A Whole Greater Than Their Sum, As The Diverse Minerals In The Ground Collect To Become The Tree.

True Love Is Visible Not To The Eyes But To The Heart, For Eyes May Be Deceived.

The Job Has Its Grandeurs, Yes. There Is The Exultation Of Arriving Safely After A Storm, The Joy Of Gliding Down Out Of The Darkness Of Night Or Tempest Toward A Sun-drenched Alicante Or Santiago; There Is The Swelling Sense Of Returning To Repossess One's Place In Life, In The Miraculous Garden Of Earth, Where Are Trees And Women And, Down By The Harbor, Friendly Little Bars. When He Has Throttled His Engine And Is Banking Into The Airport, Leaving The Somber Cloud Masses Behind, What Pilot Does Not Break Into Song?