Again the blackbirds sings; the streams Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, And tremble in the April showers The tassels of the maple flowers.

For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, 'It might have been'.

A little smile, a word of cheer, A bit of love from someone near, A little gift from one held dear, Best wishes for the coming year. These make a merry christmas!

Through this broad street, restless ever, ebbs and flows a human tide, wave on wave a living river; wealth and fashion side by side; Toiler, idler, slave and master, in the same quick current glide.

Swan flocks of lilies shoreward lying, In sweetness, not in music, dying.

Along the river's summer walk, The withered tufts of asters nod; And trembles on its arid stalk the hoar plum of the golden-rod.

Alas for him who never sees The stars shine through his cypress-trees Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, Nor looks to see the breaking day Across the mournful marbles play!

All the windows of my heart I open to the day.

Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, Through showers the sunbeams fall; For God, who loveth all his works, Has left his Hope with all.

If thou of fortune be bereft, and in thy store there be but left two loaves, sell one, and with the dole, buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.

Green calm below, blue quietness above.

Nancy Herman, my new gym partner and locker neighbor, puts her hand on my shoulder and whispers, "Don't worry April. I have foot fungus too.

You have to let go of who you were to allow yourself to become who you are.

Unless it was Cokie, gifts from men weren't free.

Faith is never identical with piety.

We are willing to weather the storm of multiple failures to achieve a goal. We're so convinced in the destination that we are able to let go of the reins and give it to God.

I don't want anybody suspecting I am some sheep and part of the Washington D.C. establishment.

No man ever properly calculates from time to time what it is his duty to avoid.

Sitting in my favorite coffeehouse with a new notebook and a hot cup of java is my idea of Heaven.

Politics can be strengthened by music, but music has a potency that defies politics.

If you do not step forward you will always remain where you are.