For still the new transcends the old In signs and tokens manifold; Slaves rise up men; the olive waves, With roots deep set in battle graves!

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.

There was a certain untamed energy about the west of Ireland – full of tragedy and struggle, sown with the flesh of the departed.

He that waits upon fortune is never sure of a dinner.

Men are especially intolerant of serving and being ruled by, their equals.

In trying to become 'objective,' Western culture made 'objects' of things and people when it distanced itself from them, thereby losing 'touch' with them.

Most of the time when you do a job, a play or a film, you're wondering, "Will there be an audience?"

In fact, allowing immigrants to have licenses actually improves homeland security by allowing our government to track who is in our borders.

I am dying a thousand cruel and unusual deaths as fifty pairs of eyes take me in, size me up like something that should be hanging over a fireplace in a gentleman's den.

I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food.

If I were to give off-the-cuff advice to anyone trying to institute change, I would say, "How clear is the metaphor?"

That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman.