yet the heart is suddenly shattered, the body falls in separate motions and the blood is astonished to be freed on the air; the brain squanders its few precious memories and, puzzled, dies.

In March the soft rains continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sunk beneath the ground.

At most I&#39;ll spend three or four hours daily, sometimes less.

That's why there are ten gates to pass through before you reach the garden. If life were easy there would be one gate. There would be no gates at all.

Written By Alice Hoffman

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