Goodbye, kind year, we walk no more together. But here in quiet happiness we part.

And a proverb haunts my mind As a spell is cast, The mill cannot grind With the water that is past.

But the waiting time, my brothers, Is the hardest time of all.

If you set out to do a good deed, you may do a hundred small kindnesses on the way.

The Master hath called us, in life's early morning, With spirits as fresh as the dew on the sod: We turn from the world, with its smiles and its scorning, To cast in our lot with the people of God.

I—I didn't think—""That, " said Professor McGonagall, "is obvious.

Parenthood abruptly catapults us into a permanent relationship with a stranger.

Purpose ... is held to be most closely connected with virtue, and to be a better token of our character than are even our acts.

My son has two loving parents and an extended family, whether it's cousins or stepmothers or boyfriends. My son is surrounded by love.

The three-ball is an easy shot if you're uncontested, but when they know you can shoot, it's a lot harder to get off.

Perfection, in anything, is unbearably dull. Myself, I prefer a touch of imperfection.

I think there are too many smart people pursuing internet stuff, finance, and law. That is part of the reason why we haven't seen as much innovation.

It is the old experience that a rude instrument in the hand of a master craftsman will achieve more than the finest tool wielded by the uninspired journeyman.

I haven't thought about making a music film, but if I did, that would be a very interesting idea.