The more perfect a thing is, the more susceptible to good and bad treatment it is.

The more perfect a thing is, the more susceptible to good and bad treatment it is.

Many hands make light work.

Many hands make light work.

Man knows more than he understands.

Man knows more than he understands.

In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love, you want
the other person.

In real love you want the other person's good. In romantic love, you want
the other person.

There has never been a statue erected to the memory of someone who let
well enough alone.

There has never been a statue erected to the memory of someone who let
well enough alone.

The irony is that the person not taking risks feels the same amount of
fear as the person who regularly read more

The irony is that the person not taking risks feels the same amount of
fear as the person who regularly takes risks.

Always the more beautiful answer who asks the more beautiful question.

Always the more beautiful answer who asks the more beautiful question.

How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes,
such enchanted musical instruments as the read more

How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes,
such enchanted musical instruments as the ears, and such fabulous
arabesque of nerves as the brain can experience itself anything less than
a god.

Here is little Effie's head. Her brains are made of gingerbread. When
the judgement day comes, God will find six read more

Here is little Effie's head. Her brains are made of gingerbread. When
the judgement day comes, God will find six crumbs. Stooping by the coffin
lid waiting for something to rise as the something's always did. Imagine
His surprise, bellowing above the general noise, "Where is Effie? She
was dead." Back to God in a tiny voice: "My name's Maybe."
The first crumb said. The number two crumb picked up the song.
"Might, I'm called. I've done no wrong." Cried the third crumb,
"I am Should. Here's our little brother Could and my big sister
Would. Don't punish us for we've been good." And the last crumb, with
some shame, whispered unto God, "My name is Must and with the others,
we've been Effie, who isn't alive and never was. Cross the threshold have
no dread. Lift the sheet back in this way.