Youth calls to age across the tired years: 'What have you found,' he cries, 'what have you sought?" 'What have you found,' age answers through his tears, 'What have you sought.

It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.

Washington isn't a city, it's an abstraction.

This world is half the devil's and my own, Daft with the drug that's smoking in a girl and curling round the bud that forks her eye.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.

Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Life always offers you a second chance. is called tomorrow.