Nothing beats a private visit to Number Ten or Chequers to take the wind out of rebellious sails.
I keep sailing on in this middle passage. I am sailing into the wind and the dark. But I am doing my best to keep my boat steady and my sails full.
In my grammar school years back in the 1920s I used my ten-cents-a-week allowance for Saturday matinees of Douglas Fairbanks movies. All that swashbuckling and leaping about in the midst of the sails of ships!
Success soon palls. The joyous time is when the breeze first strikes your sails, and the waters rustle under your bows.
Whenever I get in a car and I'm going to or from the airport or the train station, I put on a TED Talk using the TED app. It makes the trip go by super fast, and it fills my sails.
Among the seascapes, I am doing the regattas of Le Havre with many figures on the beach and the outer harbor covered with small sails.
We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.
One ship drives east and other drives west by the same winds that blow. It's the set of the sails and not the gales that determines the way they go.
If my ship sails from sight, it doesn't mean my journey ends, it simply means the river bends.
Happiness is brief. It will not stay. God batters at its sails.
