I want any excuse to come home. My dad is not a spring chicken any more. If anyone says 'Go buy a postage stamp in London ' I'll go and do it.

The cool wind blew in my face and all at once I felt as if I had shed dullness from myself. Before me lay a long gray line with a black mark down the center. The birds were singing. It was spring.

My family moved - first to Washington D.C. and then in the spring of 1975 to Lebanon where my father worked as a diplomat at the American embassy. My parents were enthusiastic about the move so my older brother and I felt like we were off to some place kind of cool.

I learned never to empty the well of my writing but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.

I was away from the front lines for a while this spring living with other troops and considerable fighting took place while I was gone. When I got ready to return to my old friends at the front I wondered if I would sense any change in them.

The splendid discontent of God With chaos made the world. And from the discontent of man The worlds best progress springs.

The flowers anew returning seasons bring but beauty faded has no second spring.

Many a genius has been slow of growth. Oaks that flourish for a thousand years do not spring up into beauty like a reed.

I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.