Writing good jokes requires effort. Think I'll just start dressing funnier.
Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timbered, never gives; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
Prayer should be the key of the day and the lock of the night.
He that hath not the craft, let him shut up shop.
A discontented man knowes not where to sit easie.
He that commits a fault, thinkes every one speakes of it. [He that commits a fault thinks everyone speaks of it. ]
Thou who hast given so much to me, give me one more thing. . . a grateful heart!
No one can construct for you the bridge upon which precisely you must cross the stream of life, no one but you yourself alone.
I saw the suffering and I let myself feel it… I saw the injustice and was compelled to do something about it. I changed from being a nun who only prayed for the suffering world to a woman with my sleeves rolled up, living my prayer.
Listening is like running down a mountain on a switchback trail, the sound of surprise generating its own momentum. There’s a punk glee inside the bluegrass craft–and a punk vehemence inside the bluegrass smile.
Most people are weak and frightened, and run from anything which could be upsetting. Most people, also, are takers and not givers.