Soft you day, be velvet soft, My true love approaches, Look you bright, you dusty sun, Array your golden coaches. Soft you wind, be soft as silk My true love is speaking. Hold you birds, your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking. Come you death, in haste, do come My shroud of black be weaving, Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet, My true love is leaving.

When we find someone who is brave, fun, intelligent, and loving, we have to thank the universe.

Everyone grows old but not everyone grows up.

One isn't born with courage. One develops it by doing small courageous things.

My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry; to get my work done and try to love somebody and have the courage to accept the love in return.

There's racism and sexism and ageism and all sorts of idiocies. But bad news is not news. We've had bad news as a species for a long time. We've had slavery and human sacrifice and the holocaust and brutalities of such measure.

We have it in us to be splendid.