Walking through puddles is my favorite metaphor for life. – Terri Guillemets, “Evening walk in solitude,” 1989

When it snows, you have two choices: shovel or make snow angels. – Author unknown

It was one of those hot, silent nights, when people sit at windows, listening for the thunder which they know will shortly break; when they recall dismal tales of hurricanes and earthquakes; and of lonely travellers on open plains, and lonely ships at sea, struck by lightning. – Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit, Chapter XLII