When his veering gait And every motion of his starry train Seem governed by a strain Of music, audible to him alone.

Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.

one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.

Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be.

That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.

Strongest minds are often those whom the noisy world hears least.

The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.

If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flower to bloom?

I'll never stop wandering. And when the time comes to die, I'll find the wildest, loneliest, most desolate spot there is.

No healthy mind could bring itself to torture another human being.

Some of us pray demands. Some of us pray complaints. Some of us pray knowing, and some of us pray not knowing. But prayer is the attitude that you hold in your heart.

Great is our admiration of the orator who speaks with fluency and discretion.

Yesterday Michael Phelps set an all-time Olympic record for most medals. Phelps has so much gold on his chest he's been asked to join the cast of 'Jersey Shore.'

I think what you've seen from Donald Trump is this whole election cycle, there's been a level of misogyny that has become certain and fixed.

History, that excitable and unreliable old lady.

The best photographs are made by the best people.

For Aliki Barnstone, poetry seems a natural medium. The vision and cadences of these poems suggest a sensibility for which poetry is as inevitable as breathing or eating.