Until
thirty your face is natures doing.
After thirty it is your doing!
|
Retreat to perfection.
|
|
Each
day we reconstruct ourselves,
|
|
so often diametrically
opposed
|
|
to the Nature from
which we emerged.
|
It is not the fall that kills you! It is the Winter
(of Your Discontent)
|
Wright
Morris
|
I know what I pursue
surrounds me!
Time is the school
in which we learn
