Prayer ardent opens heaven.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

Too low they build who build below the skies.

A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.

Narcissus is the glory of his race: For who does nothing with a better grace?.

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!... Midway from nothing to the Deity!

Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven.

The clouds may drop down titles and estates, and wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought.

Where boasting ends, there dignity begins.

Who lives to Nature, rarely can be poor ; who lives to fancy, never can be rich.

Leisure is pain; take off our chariot wheels; how heavily we drag the load of life!

Nothing is lost. . .Everything is transformed.

Here, though, there is nothing. Nothing at all. The sky seems empty even when I am looking at the moon and stars.

Strange people like chefs, musicians, and politicians affect me.

How charming is divine philosophy! Not harsh and crabb

I find myself improvising a lot. But, sometimes I'll come us with a chorus or just one line and it will sort of hang out for a long time before it get's flushed out into a real living song.

Next year I hope to get a stalker or two because I don't believe you've arrived until you get a stalker.

It doesn't matter matter how many yards you ran for last year. You've got to do it again.

I don't do a television show for awards. You make it so people will enjoy watching it.

I'm thought to be a tough writer, but I'm really a softie.

And she's fair I love.