In democracy both a deep reverence and a sense of the comic are requisite.

Nothing happens unless first we dream.

Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice? Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.

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.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes.

What if they gave a war and nobody came?

Every blunder behind us is giving a cheer for us, and only for those who were willing to fail are the dangers and splendors of life.