When you have a tough childhood, you either cry or make a joke.

I guess they're tough jokes. But there's lots of things you either laugh or cry at. And you just can't cry.

Once upon a time there were two parents, two children, and a brick house with lilies in the yard. The parents died, the lilies wilted. One child disappeared. Then the other.

There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again.

What is so real as the cry of a child?
A rabbit's cry may be wilder
But it has no soul.

I was smiling yesterday,I am smiling today and I will smile tomorrow.Simply because life is too short to cry for anything.