justice

There is a tradition of opposition between adherents of induction and of deduction. In my view it would be just as sensible for the two ends of a worm to quarrel.

There is a technique, a knack, for thinking, just as there is for doing other things. You are not wholly at the mercy of your thoughts, any more than they are you. They are a machine you can learn to operate.

The only calendar I need is just outside my window. With eyes to see and ears to hear, nature keeps me posted.

Avoid destructive thinking. Improper negative thoughts sink people. A ship can sail around the world many, many times, but just let enough water get into the ship and it will sink. Just so with the human mind. Let enough negative thoughts or improper thoughts get into the human mind and the person sinks just like a ship.

Dialogue should simply be a sound among other sounds, just something that comes out of the mouths of people whose eyes tell the story in visual terms.

The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul. Share the botanical bliss of gardeners through the ages, who have cultivated philosophies to apply to their own - and our own - lives: Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.

Let me tell you, you can paint pictures and get people indicted for just about anything.

In our country, the lie has become not just a moral category but a pillar of the State.

Love THE fierce exulting worlds, the motes in rays, The churlish thistles, scented briers, The wind-swept bluebells on the sunny braes, Down to the central fires, Exist alike in Love. Love is a sea Filling all the abysses dim Of lornest space, in whose deeps regally Suns and their bright broods swim. This mighty sea of Love, with wondrous tides, Is sternly just to sun and grain; 'Tis laving at this moment Saturn's sides, 'Tis in my blood and brain. All things have something more than barren use; There is a scent upon the brier, A tremulous splendour in the autumn dews, Cold morns are fringed with fire. The clodded earth goes up in sweet-breath'd flowers; In music dies poor human speech, And into beauty blow those hearts of ours When Love is born in each. Daisies are white upon the churchyard sod, Sweet tears the clouds lean down and give. The world is very lovely. O my God, I thank Thee that I live!

Failure and success are not accidents, but the strictest justice.