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I would rather be miserable, than indifferent.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
I would rather be miserable, than indifferent.
Our hearts know right from wrong, they need no instruction in this art. @NekoCreations I don't agree with learning the rules. @Ken_M_Arndt
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
Our hearts know right from wrong, they need no instruction in this art.
"I try to be be good, mommie, but sometimes I just can't." – Eden. Our 4yr old granddaughter.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
“I try to be be good, mommie, but sometimes I just can’t.” – Eden. Our 4yr old granddaughter.
And that is precisely the reason I love little kids, they haven't yet learn to lie, or to think there is ever reason why. @AnnetteTia
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
And that is precisely the reason I love little kids, they haven’t yet learn to lie, or to think there is ever reason why.
If the means is evil, no end can ever justify it.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
If the means is evil, no end can ever justify it.
In a battle between Nature and government, Nature will win. And in a battle between man and the Environment, both will lose. @larrymeath
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
In a battle between Nature and government, Nature will win. And in a battle between man and the Environment, both will lose.
For rhymes to flow they need rhythm, and for words to have worth they need meaning.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 10, 2014
For rhymes to flow they need rhythm, and for words to have worth they need meaning.
Our future path with possibility we pave, and our past… with failed dreams of concrete have we cast.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 11, 2014
Our future path with possibility we pave, and our past… with failed dreams of concrete have we cast.
If tears are a soul’s expression of sad, perhaps smiles are a soul’s expression of glad.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 11, 2014
If tears are a soul’s expression of sad, perhaps smiles are a soul’s expression of glad.
Meaning from the poet's heart, upon the paper is cast, there perceived by the reader's eye, and by their heart, is understood.
— C.G.Ayling (@CGAyling) February 11, 2014
