I dropped my hoe and ran into the house and started to write this poem, '.’ It began as a celebration of wild geese. Eventually the geese flew out of the poem, but I like to think they left behind the sound of their beating wings. Stanley Kunitz - End of Summer
If he had the earth for his pasture and the sea for his pond, he would be a pauper still. He only is rich who owns the day. There is no king, rich man, fairy or demon who possesses such power as that.Mentioned inSixty Days and Counting, by Kim Stanley Robinson - Ralph Waldo Emerson