Ergometer is Greek for 'work meter'

There is a place where cerebral an corporeal meet: they call it rowing

The oars game me power but also taught me humility.

In college, I was an editor on the student daily... To the extent that I noticed the existence of crew at all, I saw only what appeared to be big-boned acolytes who rose at dawn.

When you are on the erg your mind is too busy to pay attention to the sounds of the machine; you notice only that they are indeed loud.

A boat is the hardest think I know of to put into perspective. It is so much like a human figure, there is something alive about it.

The single sculler, alone on the river at dawn, or spotlighted in his lane during a race, is th emost romantic, the most quixotic figure in all rowing.

The greatest poet who ever wrote about rowing is Virgil, the greatest historian is Thucydides, but the greatest imagination ever to turn its attention to the sport is that of painter, Thomas Eakins.

Rowing was not simple for me. I nodded whenever the instructor made a point, as if I understood, but I could as easily have assembled the space shuttle as have repeated the moves she was explaining.

If rowing is a trial then the ergometer is the courtroom, the meter is the jury. And an honest jury at that, because the numbers do not lie.

Rowing it was pointed out, was a sport that risked few injuries. So it was, I ould discover, but only if you did it right.

To leaders, one trusted friend is better than ten well known betrayers

As kids we're not taught how to deal with success; we're taught how to deal with failure. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. If at first you succeed, then what?

Digressions, objections, delight in mockery, carefree mistrust are signs of health.

I think for me it was a natural transition to move full time into acting rather than figure skating.

Yes, very sensible... People die of common sense, Dorian, one lost moment at a time. Life is a moment. There is no hereafter. So make it burn always with the hardest flame.

I shall weave a suit of leaves. At once. With acorns for buttons.

There are plenty of Christian writers out there telling people what they should think. I'm happy to be one of the Christian writers simply telling people to think. For themselves.

This love was tricky...was it simply better somehow? Because these humans could hate with so much fury, was the other end of the spectrum that they could love with more heart and zeal and fire?

Everybody is looking at everybody else a foolish crowd walking on mirrors.

To impress the idea of power on others, they must be made in some way to feel it.