Scott: Memory
If there is one thing left after we’re gone, one small thing that matters, even an echo in a canyon, even a faint scent on a breeze, then we haven’t lived in vain, have we?
Chloe: Air
I may yet be forgotten by the wind in its perpetual unrest as I stand here, small and quiet, watching the waves, touching the breeze.
Scott: Crit
Sometimes the world gives me a garland of fears, a skin-vexing hair shirt, a bucket of tears. Sometimes it allows me ineffable cheer, the beauty of heavens, the music of spheres.
Anne: Lunacy
Have you ever watched the moon rise on the ocean on a bright summer night when all the stars are out and by their light alone, you see your shadow?
Barry: Innocence
We are in life for just a while between time and eternity with no navigational instruments, no sextant and no chart; we live in context.