Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.

Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.

Not for myself I make this prayer, But for this race of mine That stretches forth from shadowed places Dark hands for bread and wine.

The truth is... everything counts. Everything. Everything we do and everything we say. Everything helps or hurts; everything adds to or takes away from someone else.

The key to all strange things is in thy heart..../ My spirit has come home, that sailed the doubtful seas.

There is no secret to success except hard work and getting something indefinable which we call 'the breaks.

Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:/ To make a poet black, and bid him sing!