There is a passion for perfection which you will rarely see fully developed but you may note this fact that in successful lives it is never wholly lacking.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

Set me a task in which I can put something of my very self, and it is a task no longer; it is joy; it is art.

Over the shoulders and slopes of the dune I saw the white daisies go down to the sea, A host in the sunshine, an army in June, The people God sends us to set our heart free.

I took a day to search for God, And found Him not. But as I trod By rocky ledge, through woods untamed, Just where one scarlet lily flamed, I saw His foot print in the sod.

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood- Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

Lord of the far horizons, Give us the eyes to see Over the verge of the sundown The beauty that is to be.

I often wish... that I could rid the world of the tyranny of facts. What are facts but compromises? A fact merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

There is only one way in the world to be distinguished. Follow your instinct! Be yourself, and you'll be somebody. Be one more blind follower of the blind, and you will have the oblivion you desire.

A 'fact' merely marks the point where we have agreed to let investigation cease.

Thank God for poverty That makes and keeps us free And lets us go our unobtrusive way, Glad of the sun and rain, Upright, serene, humane, Contented with the fortune of a day.

We tell our stories differently, don't we, you and I?

Imagination is the other end of Reality.

The right one for you will move mountains to be with you - he won't hide behind them.

How can you ennoble the spirit when you are selling something as inconsequential as a face cream?

You and I have need of the strongest spell that can be found to wake us from the evil enchantment of worldliness.

Sometimes when you get disappointment it makes you stronger.

Maybe existence is ultimately a lonely thing.

Moral activity? There is scarcely such a thing possible! Everything is sketchy. The world does nothing but sketch.

I admired Eugene McCarthy’s courage and although I left his Senate staff after four years to accept a job as the researcher on the editorial page of the Washington Post, I remained an admirer.

Ultimately, an aircraft owner does not want to have to deal with all the intricate details which are necessary for the business.