For those of the Payson Roundup's most gentle and sensitive readers -- presumably essentially all females -- who have become jaded or disillusioned as the result of their slog through this terrestrial "vale of tears," I wish to present the following passage from Jack London's "Martin Eden," which suggests that at some times, in some places and on some occasions, human existence can indeed be quite beautiful.
Well, perhaps at least quite sensual and/or romantic:
"He lay on a coral beach where the coconuts grew down to the mellow-sounding surf. The hulk of an ancient wreck burned with blue fires, in the light of which danced the hula dancers to the barbaric love-calls of the singers, who chanted to tinkling ukuleles and rumbling tom-toms. It was a sensuous tropic night. In the background, a volcano crater was silhouetted against the stars. Overhead drifted a pale crescent moon, and the Southern Cross burned low in the sky."
Otis M. Trimble, Payson