Keep Your Hand On The Plow. Hold

Oh, God Of Dust And Rainbows, Help Us To See That Without The Dust The Rainbow Would Not Be.

Sometimes A Crumb Falls From The Tables Of Joy, Sometimes A Bone Is Flung. To Some People Love Is Given, To Others Only Heaven.

Politics Can Be The Graveyard Of The Poet. And Only Poetry Can Be His Resurrection.

We Build Our Temples For Tomorrow, Strong As We Know How, And We Stand On Top Of The Mountain, Free Within Ourselves.

It Has Seemed To Me That Most People Are Generally Good, In Every Race And In Every Country Where I Have Been.