“Every morning during certain seasons of the year, the thrushes and blackbirds on all the lawns throughout the country draw out of their holes an astonishing number of worms; and this they could not do, unless they lay close to the surface.”

“What do you think it is?"
"It could be anything from a lawn trimmer to a bomb, for all I know."
"I would never build a lawn trimmer," Myrnin said. "What did the lawn ever do to me?”

“Morning has broken,
Like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken
Like the first bird.”

“All but blind
In his chambered hole
Gropes for worms
The four-clawed Mole.”

“I have worked like a galley slave throughout these eight years, morning till night, and I have given all I could to this work. I am happy with the results.”

“At this season of the year we draw close to Good Friday. All the eyes of the world will turn back to "a green hill far away, without a city wall," where the founder of Christianity was crucified by those forces of selfishness, greed, and lust for gain that are still at work in the world. It seems to me that unless we do something in Canada about the question of the export of war materials there will be another crucifixion - the crucifixion of a generation of young men, crucified upon a cross of nickel.”

“It's like the first day back at school. (referring to the number of driver errors made during the first race of the season)”

“Every blade in the field - Every leaf in the forest - lays down its life in its season as beautifully as it was taken up.”

“If we had a starship, we could move near a black hole, stay there for a half hour and then come out. Outside hundreds of years could have gone. So we could... come away from the black hole into the far future easily.”

“It makes no difference abroad,
The seasons fit the same,
The mornings blossom into noons,
And split their pods of flame.

Wild-flowers kindle in the woods,
The brooks brag all the day;
No blackbird bates his jargoning
For passing Calvary.

Auto-da-fé and judgment
Are nothing to the bee;
His separation from his rose
To him seems misery.”