We threw ourselves at that wild river every day and most days it tossed us all harmlessly skyward like well-loved children. After a while that does something to you. - Jo Deurbrouck
The book and I secret ourselvesBehind the paneled door.We merge our thoughts in retrospectOf ancient mystic lore.We spend a pleasant quiet hour,Nor know it passed us by...The easy chair, the shaded lamp,A well-loved book and I. - Edna Moore Schultz