“Nobody was ever meant, To remember or invent, What he did with every cent.”

A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.

Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

If society fits you comfortably enough, you call it freedom.

Most of the change we think we see in life is due to truths being in and out of favor.

We love the things we love for what they are.

One of the hardest things in life to accept is a called third strike.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

A champion of the workingman has never been known to die of overwork.

Poetry is what is lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.

Earth’s the right place for love. I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.

There is absolutely no reason for being rushed along with the rush. Everybody should be free to go slow.

But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

All great things are done for their own sake.

Keep all ur troubles in ur own pocket. But, make sure that the pocket has a hole!

Necessity is the mother of invention.

For me, the pleasure of writing comes with inventing stories.

Failure comes part and parcel with invention. It’s not optional.

We innovate by starting with the customer and working backwards. That becomes the touchstone for how we invent.

Nature is the source of all true knowledge. She has her own logic, her own laws, she has no effect without cause nor invention without necessity.

The value of an idea lies in the using of it.

I find out what the world needs. Then I go ahead and try to invent it.

Anything that won’t sell, I don’t want to invent. Its sale is proof of utility, and utility is success.