The chance is the remotest, Of its going much longer unnoticed, That I'm not keeping pace With the headlong human race

If you don't know how great this country is, I know someone who does; Russia.

Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.

The land was ours before we were the land's. She was our land more than a hundred years Before we were her people.

The nearest friends can go With anyone to death, comes so far short They might as well not try to go at all.

The reason why worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work.

Only where love and need are one, And the work is play for mortal stakes Is the deed ever truly done For Heaven and the future's sakes