An old earthen pipe like myself is dry and thirsty and so a most voracious drinker of life at its source; I'm no more to be split by the vital stream than if I were stone or steel.

In masks outrageous and austere The years go by in single file; But none has merited my fear, And none has quite escaped my smile.

When strawberries go begging, and the sleek Blue plums lie open to the blackbird's beak, We shall live well--we shall live very well.

I am better able to imagine hell than heaven; it is my inheritance, I suppose.

My lord, adjudge my strength, and set me where I bear a little more than I can bear.

If you would keep your soul From spotted sight or sound, Live like the velvet mole; Go burrow underground.

Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover; A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year; The spring begins before the winter's over.

I shall lie folded like a saint, Lapped in a scented linen sheet, On a bedstead striped with bright-blue paint, Narrow and cold and neat.

If any have a stone to throw It is not I, ever or now.

I bear a little more than I can bear.

Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones There's something in this richness that I hate. I love the look, austere, immaculate, Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones.

She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache.

A lawyer's empathy for her client deepens when she realizes that she has only seen the last couple of phases of his decline. How hard it must his initial adjustment have been to his loss of freedom?

There was no need to analyze the feelings that the people caught in the commission of the amorous act, held for each other, for it was literally written in their hands.

That we're not human is just the lie they tell themselves so they don't have to feel bad about how they treat us

The medal is not for yourself. It couldn't be done without the support and help of my people, runners, and coaches

Every time I see a happy couple I want to give them a polygraph.

Truth is more peculiar than fiction. Life is really a startling place.

For more than 13,000 days on the run, my life was a soap opera.

Reaching that windswept perch, I decided, would cleanse my spirit and heal my wounds. More than that, it would send me home with a title: The First American Woman to Climb Everest.

Hate misleads, fear distorts and love blinds.