Nature's music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions.
Mary Webb
Saddle your dreams before you ride em.
We are tomorrow's past.
Give me good digestion, Lord, And also something to digest; but where and how that something comes I leave to Thee, who knoweth best.
The past is only the present become invisible and mute; and because it is invisible and mute, its memorized glances and its murmurs are infinitely precious. We are tomorrow's past.
If you stop to be kind, you must swerve often from your path.
