The lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and then becomes a host, and then a master.

Vague and nebulous is the beginning of all things, but not their end.

Sayings remain meaningless until they are embodied in habits.

Yea, death and prison we mete out To small offenders of the laws, While honor, wealth, and full respect On greater pirates we bestow. To steal a flower we call mean. To rob a field is chivalry; Who kills the body he must die, Who kills the spirit he goes free.

I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet, strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.

The love of a parent for a child is the love that should grow towards separation.

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.