Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, As a moth brushes a window with its wing. – Christopher Fry
Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement. – Christopher Fry
Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, As a moth brushes a window with its wing. – Christopher Fry
Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement. – Christopher Fry
The moon is nothing but a circumambulating aphrodisiac divinely subsidized to provoke the world into a rising birth-rate. – Christopher Fry
Imagination is the wide-open eye which leads us always to see truth more vividly. – Christopher Fry