Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!

Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.

Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet, Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet, And golden locks in breezy play, Half teasing and half tender, to repeat Her song of May.

As we meet and touch, each day, The many travelers on our way, Let every such brief contact be A glorious, helpful minister.

Men die but sorrow never dies.

Every day is a fresh beginning; Listen my soul, to the glad refrain, And in spite of old sorrow… and possible pain, Take heart with the day and begin again.

Now the last red ray is gone; Now the twilight shadows hie.

In the deep shadow of the porch A slender bind-weed springs, And climbs, like airy acrobat, The trellises, and swings And dances in the golden sun In fairy loops and rings.

Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.

We ring the bells and we raise the strain We hang up garlands everywhere And bid the tapers twinkle fair, And feast and frolic - and then we go Back to the same old lives again.

Every day is a fresh beginning. Every morn is the world made anew.

Have the wisdom to perceive all there is to be thankful for, and then be thankful for the wisdom to perceive things so clearly.

The beauty of Goodreads is that you know you’re sowing in a field where everyone, by definition and self-selection, loves to read.

Catch-and-release fishing is an ecological necessity, not my preference. The practice smacks of bad faith, an inauthentic act.

I really want to work in a movie with Quentin Tarantino. I think he makes fantastic movies. I love people that create a different reality for the actors to live in.

She feels and she cries. It is to be admired.

Success nullifies. You then have to do it again, preferably differently.

I've always been very involved in anything that had to do with lung disease or cancer.

I remain close to my people. I keep singing with them.

Cezanne was fated, as his passion was immense, to be immensely neglected, immensely misunderstood, and now, I think, immensely overrated.