I, painting from myself and to myself, Know what I do, am unmoved by men's blame Or their praise either.

My sun sets to rise again.

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.

Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.

Take away love and our earth is a tomb.

Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.

Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.

Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.

I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.

It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.

Hand Grasps at hand, eye lights eye in good friendship, And great hearts expand And grow one in the sense of this world's life.

Existence, after losing her, would be hell

[O]nce demagogy and falsehoods become routine, there isn’t much for the political journalist to do except handicap the race and report on the candidate’s mood.

You see there's no real ending, it's only the beginning, come out and play.

Well, Brief Encounter is certainly one of my top five favorites of all time. I looked at Brief Encounter very closely, to be honest.

Gratitude requires awareness and effort, not only to feel it but to express it. Frequently we are oblivious to the Lord's hand. We murmur, complain, resist, criticize; so often we are not grateful.

Self-hatred is sometimes appropriate.

I used to be an atheist, until I realized I had nothing to shout during blowjobs. Oh Random Chance! Oh Random Chance! just doesn't cut it….

You spend 90% of your adult life hoping for a long rest and the last 10% trying to convince the Lord that you're actually not that tired.

There's really only three things you can write music about: girls, cars and surfing.