Her mother had once told her that there were men who kept secrets bottled up inside and that it spelled trouble for the women who loved them. Denise instinctively knew the truth of her mother’s statement, yet it was hard to reconcile her words with the love she felt for Taylor McAden.

Tell your secret to the wind, but don’t blame it for telling the trees.

It is not the greatness of a man&#39;s means that makes him independent, so much as the smallness of his wants.

Our world is rapidly drawing to a close; a new one is about to open. If it is to flourish it will have to rest on deeds as well as faith. The word will have to become flesh.

Written By Henry Miller

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