Pressure cranks and presses Life, squeezing out essence of self, aromatic with bittersweet memories, pungent adversities, and the honey-musk of desire — the vapors hover over our inkpots, and if we pick up the feather it becomes our poetry. – Terri Guillemets
Lord, Bless our enemies have mercy upon them, may they turn their course and let us alone, and let us live in peace at our homes in our own native land. – William Pennington