If she America forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me workI am the grass; I cover all. And pile them high at GettysburgAnd pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. Shovel them under and let me work. Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:What place is this?Where are we now?I am the grass. Let me work.
Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.
Shakespeare, Leonardo Da Vinci, Benjamin Franklin, and Lincoln never saw a movie, heard a radio, or looked at a TV. They had loneliness and knew what to do with it. They were not afraid of being lonely because they knew that was when the creative mood in them would mark.
The past is a bucket of ashes, so live not in your yesterdays, nor just for tomorrow, but in the here and now. Keep moving and forget the post-mortems. And remember, no one can get the jump on the future.
Topics: Moving on, Live-now, The Present, The Past, Past, Virtue, Past and Present
Who put up that cage? Who hung it up with bars, doors? Why do those on the inside want to get out? Why do those outside want to get in? What is this crying inside and out all the time? What is this endless, useless beating of baffled wings at these bars, doors, this cage?
Time is a sandpile we run our fingers in.
Topics: Time Management
I see America, not in the setting sun of a black night of despair ahead of us, I see America in the crimson light of a rising sun fresh from the burning, creative hand of God. I see great days ahead, great days possible to men and women of will and vision.
Here is the difference between Dante, Milton, and me. They wrote about hell and never saw the place. I wrote about Chicago after looking the town over for years and years.
Life is like an onion: You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.
Topics: Time, Living, Time Management, Value of a Day
Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes. And those having it in one test never know for sure if they have it when the next test comes.
Topics: Now, Will, Courage, Bravery, Gift
A baby is God’s opinion that the world should go on.
Let the gentle bush dig its root deep and spread upward to split the boulder.
Sometime they’ll give a war and nobody will come.
Money is power, freedom, a cushion, the root of all evil, the sum of blessings.
Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment
If I added to their pride of America, I am happy.
Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and you can look out of the window and see the blue sky—or the answer is wrong and you have to start over and try again and see how it comes out this time.
The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.
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