The lily in splendor, the vine in her grace, The fox in the forest, all had their desire, As then I had mine, in the place that was happy and poor.

We go in withering July To ply the hard incessant hoe; Panting beneath the brazen sky We sweat and grumble, but we go.

One's homesickness for Heaven finds at least an inn there; and it's an inn on the right road.

We go, in winter's biting wind, On many a short-lived winter day, With aching back but willing mind To dig and double dig the clay.

Poor comfort all comfort: once what the mouse had spared Was enough, was delight, there where the heart was at home

The glory of victory softens our view of past frailties.

True Christianity cuts across all other religions and creates its own culture.

You will always have time for what you make time for

Now, feel. I am thee and thou art me and all of one is the other. And feel now. Thou hast no heart but mine.

Even if you look in the dictionary you know the meaning of the word or phrase, but there's still the feeling of it.

I wish you would notice that you are heterosexual.

The truth is that things were already going so poorly for me that nothing surprised me anymore. But then the BKA sent 20 agents to search my house.

Don't get confused with what people say you are, with who you know you are.

If the breaking news story had to do with hard news, politics specifically, I had a lot to do with it. If it had to do with music, Kurt Loder was more involved.

Nature is economical. She puts her lights and darks only where she needs them.