“Call for the robin redbreast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.”

“Crimson clover I discover
By the garden gate,
And the bees about her hover,
But the robins wait.
Sing, robins, sing,
Sing a roundelay,—
'Tis the latest flower of Spring
Coming with the May!”

“It was in the shady groves of dictionaries that Jack fell in love.”

“And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.”

“But, thou art ever there, to bring
The hovering vision back, and breathe
New glories o'er the blighted spring,
And call a lovelier Life from Death,
And whisper, with a voice divine,
Of real worlds, as bright as thine.”

“Sir Christopher Wren
Said, "I am going to dine with some men.
If anyone calls
Say I am designing St. Paul's."”

“Does defending liberalism leave you friendless and perhaps wondering about your breath?”

“So do boys and men announce their intentions. They cover you like a sarcophagus lid. And call it love.”

“No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.”

“He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.”