My father always used to say that when you die, if you’ve got five real friends, then you’ve had a great life.
Where Earwigs Dare A silver trail across the monitor; fresh mouse-droppings beneath the swivel-chair; the view obscured by rogue japonica.…
The game of science is, in principle, without end. He who decides one day that scientific statements do not call…
To affect the quality of the day, that is the art of life.
🙂