“Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies”

Do not strive to grasp them all.

On her charm’d way But hasten to her task of beauty Scarcely yet begun.

Did we not hear The flutter of its wings, and feel it near, And just within our reach? It was.

Do no cheat thy Heart and tell her, ‘Grief will pass away.’

Lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.

One of these lives is a fancy, But the other one is true.

Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.

Every word man’s lips have uttered Echoes in God’s skies.

No star is lost once we have seen

One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going

Do not look at life’s long sorrow; see how small each moment’s pain.

The men are much alarmed by certain speculations about women; and well they may be

Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife, / Some pure idea of a noble life / That once seemed possible?

Dreams grow holy put in action; work grows fair through starry dreaming,

We always may be what we might have been.

The stars can only shine In the dark night.

Wisdom is not attained by years, but by ability

From the midst of the very fountain of pleasure, something of bitterness arises to vex us in the flower of enjoyment.

Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.

As citizens of this democracy, you are the rulers and the ruled

The enjoyment of freedom which could be exercised without any motivation would be the real hallmark of a maniac.

In this mad world of ours we need a little wild love.

I am a drop of gold he would say I am molten matter returned from the core of earth to tell you interior things.

I live in L.A. and I do have wonderful friends