Fortunately, the other Quaker tenet of moderation failed with me. I have, apparently, always believed that if it was worth doing, it was worth overdoing. As I write this, it is a grey winter day, but outside my window stained glass flowers are blooming, silvered bowling balls are glowing, and gilded manikin legs seem to be dancing in the wind. Fairy lights are twinkling on the porch, around the front fence, and up the stairs to the third floor. My mother is smiling down on me from her cloud.

- Timmerman Daugherty

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