Her lawn looks like a meadow, And if she mows the place She leaves the clover standing And the Queen Anne's Lace.
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink.
l am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Life can't defeat a writer who is in love with writing, for life itself is a writer's lover until death.
For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is, that they sing, and that they love. While I listen to thy Voice.
Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Gather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love, whilst yet is time.
To tax and to please, no more than to love and to be wise, is not given to men.
I can make dressing - or stuffing. Y'all call it stuffing up here, we call it dressing down there. It's really good dressing. That family recipe was passed on, and I love to make that.
I can't imagine anything more worthwhile than doing what I most love. And they pay me for it.
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