With my personal preparation at the piano, I can afford to hum at half voice.
Spring's greatest joy beyond a doubt is when it brings the children out.
The things that haven't been done before, Are the tasks worthwhile today; Are you one of the flock that follows, or Are you one that shall lead the way? Are you one of the timid souls that quail At the jeers of a doubting crew, Or dare you, whether you win or fail, Strike out for a goal that's new?
It matters not what goal you seek - its secret here reposes: you've got to dig from week to week - to get results on roses.
A happy New Year! Grant that I May bring no tear to any eye When this New Year in time shall end Let it be said I've played the friend, Have lived and loved and labored here, And made of it a happy year.
Don't give up, what've you do; eyes front, head high to the finish. See it through!
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home
I'm really open to just about anything but I think the real dream is to be able to write my own thing.
The audiences are what keep me enthusiastic.
I had refused Emerson's well-meant offers of assistance, knowing his efforts would be confined to moving the furniture to the wrong places and demanding how much longer the process would take.
There are different qualities of silence. There's the silence that sustains us, as women, that nourishes us, the silence where I believe our true voice, our authentic voice, dwells. But there's also the silence that censors us, that tells us what we have to say does not want to be heard, should not be heard, has no value. And that if we speak, it will be at our own peril. This kind of silence is deadly. This kind of silence is deadening to who we are as women. And when a woman is silenced, the world is silenced. When a woman speaks, there is an opening.