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— Sara Teasdale"Oh to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests After its leaves are gone, Waiting no more for a rain at night Nor for the red at dawn."
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A man is an island, but the water is deep And the shore on the other side is ragged and steep To look for perfection is a lonely old ride It takes a whole lot of courage and a whole lot of pride When you look for independence and you get what you want How come you look back, thinking what have I done? But time and again, it dawns on me It's the price we pay for liberty I should have know, we all need a place to call home
— Joey Tempest
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Speaking of birthdays, our firstborn [recently turned 2]. As parents sometimes fondly do, we reminisced a bit about his early days on earth-the excitement, the wonder, the fears when we brought him home. His every squeak or squawk we were sure heralded some terrible crisis; I tested the warmth of formulas from dusk to dawn, it seemed. We were so germ-conscious my wife even sterilized the skin of the oranges before squeezing them. How firstborns ever survive their parents' attentions is beyond me. However, they do, and he did, and, in spite of our efforts, he turned out to be quite a good guy.
— Malcolm Forbes
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