The only reason a road is good as every wanderer knows / Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which one goes

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

The air is like a butterfly With frail blue wings. The happy earth looks at the sky And sings.

Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree

The fairy poet takes a sheet Of moonbeam, silver white; His ink is dew from daisies sweet, His pen a point of light.

I suppose I passed it a hundred times, But I always stop for a minute. And look at the house, the tragic house, The house with nobody in it.

There is no place in which to hide when Age comes seeking for his bride.

There is no peace to be taken With poets who are young, For they worry about the wars to be fought and the songs that must be sung.

For nothing keeps a poet In his high singing mood Like unappeasable hunger For unattainable food.

Things have a terrible permanence when people die.

I think that I shall never scan A tree as lovely as a man. . . . . A tree depicts divinest plan, But God himself lives in a man.

...What you are is a force--a force that makes it possible for your body to live, a force that makes it possible for your whole mind to dream...You are life

The main business of a lawyer is to take the romance, the mystery, the irony, the ambiguity out of everything he touches.

The relentless pursuit of being different is very French.

Don't gossip- particularly about other women. Kindness is the secret to true femininity.

Ego is constantly attempting to acquire and apply the teachings of spirituality for its own benefit.

The Third Way is simply a different route to the same destination. Ultimately, the choice is always between individual human liberty and the power of government to control our lives.

The thing I love about working with first-time directors is that it's always quite shocking how little difference there is between them and directors who've been directing all their lives.

I grieve for every death.'It breaks my heart to think about a family weeping over the loss of a loved one. I understand the anguish that some feel about the death that takes place.

Change doesn’t happen overnight. It starts with the desire, then one small step in the right direction.

It is the privilege of any human work which is well done to invest the doer with a certain haughtiness. He can well afford not to conciliate, whose faithful work will answer for him.