Seek not for fresher founts afar, just drop you bucket where you are.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man.

The woods were made for the hunters of dreams, The brooks for the fishers of song; To the hunters who hunt for the gunless game The streams and the woods belong.

Bring me men to match my mountains: Bring me men to match my plains: Men with empires in their purpose and new eras in their brains.

Strew gladness on the paths of men-You will not pass this way again.

The woods were made for the hunter of dreams...

W'en you see a man in woe, Walk right up and say 'hullo'; Say "hullo" and "how d'ye do. How's the world a-usin' you?

There are purple grapes in the Land of Git-Thare.

Just drop your bucket where you are.

I say the very things that make the greatest StirAn' the most interestin' things, are things that did n't occur.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.

Excellence is the target of champions and winners.

This planet is dying. The human rase is killing it. ...If the Earth dies, you die. If you die, the Earth survives.

The Internet revolution is going to be like all the other revolutions we have seen in history. It's going to be over before a lot of us even know it started.

You cannot hinder someone's free will, that's the first law of the Universe, no matter what the decision.

Kids are coming out earlier and earlier - some, as young as twelve now - and schools need to take that into account.

I move my lips when I read -- I'm painfully slow -- so I like really good English.

By activating an expansive, tolerant, and creative mindset, positive feelings maximize the social, intellectual, and physical benefits that will accrue.

What we need is love without getting tired.

Through conscious beings the universe has generated self-awareness. This can be no trivial detail, no minor byproduct of mindless, purposeless forces. We are truly meant to be here.

Can storied urn, or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death?