That she had grown older? Would he say that, or would she see him thinking when he came back, that she had grown older?

But if there are no stories, what end can there be, or what beginning?

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.

Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.

The heavy is the root of the light. The tranquil is the ruler of the hasty.

Heavenly Father, you must think us such silly creatures, always worrying about tomorrow and letting today slip by.

You can't start worrying about what's going to happen. You get spastic enough worrying about what's happening now.

What if you find your soul mate... at the wrong time?

I have a strong propensity in me to begin this chapter very nonsensically, and I will not balk my fancy.--Accordingly I set off thus:

"It's nothing," returned Mrs Chick. "It's merely change of weather. We must expect change."

The clouds were drifting over the moon at their giddiest speed, at one time wholly obscuring her, at another, suffering her to burst forth in full splendor and shed her light on all the objects around; anon, driving over her again, with increased velocity, and shrouding everything in darkness.

He's a-going out with the tide.