You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that? Come up with a smiling face, It's nothing against you to fall down flat But to lie there - that's a disgrace.

Don't fight with the pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.

Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce Or a trouble is what you make it, And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it.

Perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries Is not the goal but the exercise.

I have seen men march to the wars, and then I have watched their homeward tread, and they brought back bodies of living men, But their eyes were cold and dead.

So you tell yourself you are pretty find clay To have tricked temptation and turned it away, But wait, my friend, for a different day; Wait till you want to want to!

Kisses kept are wasted; love is to be tasted.

Don't fight with the pillow but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.

You are beaten to earth? Well well what's that? Come up with a smiling face it's nothing against you to fall down flat but to lie there - that's disgrace.

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one.

There is a depth to life which only comes from our connection to other people. However, we have to find it without becoming a prisoner.

We have come from a time of the large-scale, planned, Al Qaeda-style attacks, to the encouragement of lone wolves: Fort Hood, Chattanooga. To the encouragement of people to act on their own.

Life is always rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.

Yes, this is life; and everywhere we meet, Not victor crowns, but wailings of defeat.

Precisely because our political speeches are meant to be reported, they are not worth reporting. Precisely because they are carefully designed to be read, nobody reads them.

If you do not go within, you without

I just try to win the match by fighting for every point, and running down every ball.

The words in prose ought to express the intended meaning, and no more; if they attract attention to themselves, it is, in general, a fault.

You can hear the footsteps of God when silence reigns in the mind.