From the desert I come to thee, On a stallion shod with fire; And the winds are left behind In the speed of my desire.

And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy's bonfire spread.

Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.

I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.

But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!

By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.

With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!

The hollows are heavy and dank With the steam of the Goldenrods.

The knowledge of my sin Is half-repentance.

The loving are the daring.

Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.

The prayer of the chicken hawk does not get him the chicken.

Some people say my humor focuses too much on stereotypes. It doesn't. It focuses on facts.

What more felicity can fall to creature, than to enjoy delight with liberty?

Morale is the state of mind. It is steadfastness and courage and hope. It is confidence and zeal and loyalty. It is élan, esprit de corps and determination.

If one is to learn to live with the dead, one must first learn to live with the living!

All I want to do is make sure that art is available to all Americans in a participatory way, whether you engage in the art process yourself or you're an audience member.

In my 50s I'll be dancing at my children's weddings.

A man falls down a flight of stairs and somebody rushes over to him and asks, Did you miss a step? No, he answers, I hit every one of them!

It's a lot of bling to play with. You got to have the bling.

Success is a personal standard, reaching for the highest that is in us, becoming all that we can be.