January 24, 2014

The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson


January 17, 2014

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.

—Martin Luther King Jr.


January 10, 2014

There are two seasonal diversions that can ease the bite of any winter. One is the January thaw. The other is the seed catalogues.

—Hal Borland


January 3, 2014

The Old Year’s gone away To nothingness and night: We cannot find him all the day Nor hear him in the night.

—John Clare


December 27, 2013

Stay yet, my friends, a moment stay — Stay till the good old year, So long companion of our way, Shakes hands, and leaves us here.

—William Cullen Bryant


December 20, 2013

When clustered sparks Of many-colored fire Appear at night In ordinary windows We hear and sing The customary carols.

—Anne Porter


December 13, 2013

So now is come our joyful feast, Let every man be jolly; Each room with ivy leaves is dressed, And every post with holly.

—George Wither


December 6, 2013

A full moon shines Over the morning frost; The lanes are full of late-fallen leaves; Walking across the mulch Is almost as tricky As treading over ice.

—Gerald England


November 29, 2013

Lift ev’ry voice and sing, Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the list’ning skies.

—James Weldon Johnson


November 22, 2013

A democracy that has no monument of individual conscience in a sea of popular rule is not worthy to bear the name.

—John F. Kennedy


November 22, 2013

A democracy that has no monument of individual conscience in a sea of popular rule is not worthy to bear the name.

—John F. Kennedy


November 15, 2013

The last light of the sun Lies over the pasture Where sheep are grazing. Off toward the sea, Where the pasture dips to the dunes.

—Margaret Howe Freydberg


November 8, 2013

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow Between the crosses row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.

—John McCrae


November 1, 2013

With night coming early, And dawn coming late, And ice in the bucket And frost by the gate. The fires burn And the kettles sing, And earth sinks to rest Until next spring.

—Elizabeth Coatsworth


October 25, 2013

On the last of October When dusk is fallen Children join hands And circle round me Singing ghost songs And love to the harvest moon.

—Carl Sandburg


October 18, 2013

The day is yet one more yellow leaf and without turning I kiss the light by an old well on the last of the month gathering wild rose hips in the sun.

—W.S. Merwin


October 11, 2013

I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.

—JD Salinger


October 4, 2013

The breezes taste Of apple peel. The air is full Of smells to feel — Ripe fruit, old footballs, Burning brush, New books, erasers, Chalk, and such.

—John Updike


September 27, 2013

Under a blue cloud-ruffled sky, dense trees along the banks, and a fellow with a red bandana sitting in a small, green flat-bottom boat holding the thin whip of a pole.

—Billy Collins


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