Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The strongest oak of the forest is not the one that is protected from the storm and hidden from the sun. It's the one that stands in the open where it is compelled to struggle for its existence against the winds and rains and the scorching sun
– Napoleon Hill

Sunday, January 02, 2011


Zoe and I were laying down. I had my arm around her and I smelled her hair.

Me: You smell like chocolate cake.
Zoe sniffing my armpit: You smell like stinky toes.