Robert Whitmore died of apoplexy when a stranger from Georgia mistook him for a former Macon waiter.

Night is a curious child, wandering Between earth and sky, creeping In windows and doors, daubing The entire neighborhood With purple paint.

Ideas rise with new mornings but never die.

Above all, never think you're not good enough. Never think that. In life people will take you at your own reckoning.

Your abilities are not enough to fulfill your wishes, so work considering your wishes and not your abilities.

I never kissed my father until he was on his death bed.

This state of independence shall be!

My chest hurts...It hurts. The sound of his name is like a knife in my heart.

What I can't do is have an intelligent conversation with [George Stephanopoulos] about a report in "The New York Times" that is unnamed, inconclusive, and based on something that isn't true.

Thank you God for making me an atheist.

Oh, no. To live... to live would be an awfully big adventure.

As a mother you have got to have a view for now and a view for the future.

Men had been living a proud life, having felt no need for the spirit-until Christianity invented it.