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Time and tide wait for no man, but time always stands still for a woman of 30.
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People are inexterminable like flies and bed-bugs. There will always be some that survive in cracks and crevices that's us.
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The first thing I do in any town I come to is ask if it has a bookstore.
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"If it were a dog, it would have bitten you already." Actual Twents: "At e ne hond was, dan e oew allange ebettene." Meaning: Said to someone who is looking for something which is right under his nose. Source: Twents Woordenbook. Twents in Woord en Gebruik.
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What an exciting age it is we live in With all this talk about the hope of youth And nothing made of youth.
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One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
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To Time it never seems that he is brave To set himself against the peaks of snow To lay them level with the running wave, Nor is he overjoyed when they lie low, But only grave, contemplative and grave.
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Poetry is what gets lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.
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He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors.
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You don't have to deserve your mother's love. You have to deserve your father s. He's more particular. The father is always a Republican towards his son, and his mother's always a Democrat.
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If you don't know how great this country is, I know someone who does; Russia.
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But he had gone his way, the grass all mown, And I must be, as he had been - alone, As all must be, I said within my heart, Whether they work together or apart.
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What is done is done for the love of it- or not really done at all.
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Nobody was ever meant, To remember or invent, What he did with every cent.
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I have wished a bird would fly away, And not sing by my house all day....
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Than smoke and mist who better could appraise The kindred spirit of an inner haze?
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What is required is sight and insight- then you might add one more: excite.
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The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day. When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, a cloud come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.
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You have freedom when you're easy in your harness.
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No wonder poets sometimes have to seem. So much more business-like than business men./ Their wares are so much harder to get rid of.
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Writing a poem is discovering.
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'Warm in December, cold in June, you say?' I don't suppose the water's changed at all. You and I know enough to know it's warm Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm. But all the fun's in how you say a thing.
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Nothing flatters me more than to have it assumed that I could write prose, unless it be to have it assumed that I once pitched a baseball with distinction.
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Originality and initiative are what I ask for my country.