Author: Paul Casey

Let it be said that of all who give gifts these six were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side.

He opened his eyes in the darkness and saw above him a gleam of light, but how distant, how inaccessible! He was still sinking, for the light became fainter and fainter until it was a mere glimmer.

An artist who had painted a small and very beautiful picture placed it so that he could see it in the mirror. He said, “This doubles the distance and softens it, and it is twice as lovely as it was before.” Wisdom first.

Our meadows on the banks of the Garonne were of a tender green. The grass was three feet high, and an osier thicket, planted the year before, had sprouts a yard high. From there we went to visit our wheat and our vines. Consideration first.

“What makes you say that?” said the boy. “The tree has hundreds of beautiful red buds. This is why it is called the Red-Bud Tree.” The boy said: “Red buds, did you say? Why do you say it has red buds? It is covered with green leaves.” Appreciation first.

She decided to approach him and with noble words let him know that she wished to see him blossom like the other trees, so she proposed to cast a spell so that he could find the warmth of life. Listening first.

Time was what Renzo wished he had, free time to forget about all the troubles that plagued him like having money to pay his rent, to pay the people he owed debt, to plaster the crack and indentations on the walls of the apartment. Open-mindedness first.

There’s a letter here for you, I said. I was sitting in the kitchen, still looking at the letter that was not for me. The writing on the envelope was elegantly written in an iridescent golden ink. It was beautiful. Compassion first.

“But it’s so pretty. Just five more minutes, please?” Ava begged her mother, desperate to get back to staring at the flashing colors of the jumping flame. Thoughtfulness first.

The travelers were happy, their host had fed them and offered rest. The woman smiled and said, “I am glad that I could help you.” Generosity first.

The subtle watercolor illustrations done in a palette of predominately greens and grey. This is one of my favorite illustrations because I feel it really captures the sense of spring that was so much a part of Willie’s life, but not allowing either one to dominate it. Patience first.

As the sun climbs across the sky, the field transforms. And as dusk falls, the flowers close their petals, to hold onto the day’s warmth, waiting to bloom again with the next sunrise.

I might almost begin my famous essay on “The Improbability of the Infinite.” It would be a pity for the country to lose such a masterpiece — she has had quite enough trouble already what with one thing and another.

She pulled her attention back to The Life and Times of a Slice of Bread, thinking of the wonders of the human imagination as regards to bread. When she glanced across the armchair at the clock, the blanket had moved to the floor. So, she stuffed her books in shoeboxes and lived on in happiness… Continue reading Wonders of imagination

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon And if there is no room upon the hill And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon

Then she found a nut in the window, noisily cracked it and ate it. And if it had entered my head to ask her what thoughts, what convictions, what aims she had, she would no doubt have raised her eyebrows, thought a minute, and have said in the same way: “All sorts.”