The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.

Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.

Nothing happens unless first we dream.

Rest is not a word of free people. Rest is a monarchical word.

Come clean with a child heart Laugh as peaches in the summer wind Let rain on a house roof be a song Let the writing on your face be a smell of apple orchards on late June.

Always the path of American destiny has been into the unknown. Always there arose enough reserves of strength, balances of sanity, portions of wisdom to carry the nation through to a fresh start with ever-renewing vitality.

The shovel is the brother to the gun.