How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood When fond recollection presents them to view.

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view.

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well.

Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well.

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection recalls them to view; The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew.

From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone.

God hears and answers every prayer.

if you rest at work, you will work at rest

Our American government has strayed too far from American values. It is time to move forward. The country we carry in our hearts is waiting.

Beware originality. In women fashion originality can lead to carnival.

Today right here in America we have 50 million people without health insurance.

I did grow up in a rough neighborhood in Portland, which is an abstract concept for anybody who's rolled through Portland because now it looks like a TV set, literally.

I think that everything I've ever done at some point is part of someone else's legacy.

Become a possibilitarian.

Sharing an idea you care about is a generous way to change your world for the better.