Yesterday and tomorrow cross and mix on the skyline. The two are lost in a purple haze. One forgets, one waits.

The fog comes on little cat feet.

Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.

If [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.

Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it until the test comes.

Let the gentle bush dig its root deep and spread upward to split the boulder.

Strange things blow in through my window on the wings of the night wind and I don't worry about my destiny.