I stuck my head out the window this morning and spring kissed me bang in the face.

The only way to get a thing done is to start to do it, then keep on doing it, and finally you'll finish it.

Through my grandmother's stories always life moved, moved heroically toward an end. Nobody ever cried in my grandmother's stories. They worked, or schemed, or fought. But no crying. When my grandmother died, I didn't cry, either. Something about my grandmother's stories (without her ever having said so) taught me the uselessness of crying about anything."

Reach Up Your Hand... and take a star.

Humor is when the joke's on you but hits the other fellow first -- before it boomerangs.

A dog gets lonesome just like a human. He wants to associate with other dogs, but when they take him out, the poor dog is on a leash and cannot run around.

When poems stop talking about the moon and begin to mention poverty, trade unions, color, color lines and colonies, somebody tells the police.