“She makes me wash, they comb me all to thunder; she won’t let me sleep in the woodshed…. The widder eats by a bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell—everything’s so awful reg’lar a body can’t stand it.Mark Twain
“The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying Unbroken wings. And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices And the weak spirit quickens to rebel For the bent goldenrod and the lost sea smell. T. S. Eliot
“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.Henry David Thoreau