A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.
God gives us our relatives; thank God we can choose our friends.
“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”
The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.
Knowledge is power.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.
God gives us our relatives; thank God we can choose our friends.
“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”
The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.
Knowledge is power.