There was a poor poet named Clough, Whom his friends all united to puff, But the public, though dull, Had not such a skull As belonged to believers in Clough.

Heart's ease of pansy, pleasure or thought, Which would the picture give us of these? Surely the heart that conceived it sought Heart's ease.

Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which.

Today will die tomorrow.

Blossom by blossom the spring begins.

I remember the way we parted, The day and the way we met; You hoped we were both broken-hearted And knew we should both forget.

The tadpole poet will never grow into anything bigger than a frog.

A little soul scarce fledged for earth Takes wing with heaven again for goal, Even while we hailed as fresh from birth A little soul.

When the hounds of Spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain.

Love, as is told by the seers of old, Comes as a butterfly tipped with gold, Flutters and flies in sunlit skies, Weaving round hearts that were one time cold.

His life is a watch or a vision Between a sleep and a sleep.

I am so thankful to MOTHER for making my ordinary life extraordinary. MOTHER - Multiplied Opportunities Through Her Endless Reinvention.

I couldn't remember anyone hugging me like that before.

I'm better with my hands, and I always loved the slightly romantic idea of starting with bits of wood and being able to create something to sit on, to eat from, to store your clothes in.

The blackness of darkness, forever.

It is not the role of the United States to dictate change, but to enter into discussions with our friends.

Nothing is worse and more hurtful than a happiness that comes too late.

No one can really honestly be the very best, no one.

Use the Light that dwells within you to regain your natural clarity of sight.

I'm with the spirit of Earth-Day-yet-to-come. Nobody can really predict the future, all you can do is look at trends, and that could change at any moment.

There is no regional art. The only region left is the art magazine.