Last day of March, first newt.
Dry-walling in the Welsh alpine.
A most thoroughly enjoyed day.

The bee must visit the flower...we assume it's because of the flower.

On hands:

 Our hands can build a pyramid or, without the help of vision, can also discern between two different patterns of lace.

A friend rushes bothered and irascible through my door.
We agree that it is impossible to suss out sensationalism from truth.
He leaves calm, satisfied, promising that he will not go back to the television.

Woe to the man who writes no paychecks.

Vane in flight. I think in March.

On hope:

The majority of extremely successful people are of average intelligence.