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Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true, (from Summer Sun. Robert Louis Stevenson)

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“Now I know that our world is no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean. Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper.” ― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

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“We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day.” ― Edith Lovejoy Pierce

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