Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and offrings, and a thankful strain. – Alexander Pope
And, after all, what is a lie? Tis but the truth in a masquerade. – Alexander Pope
Lo! The poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind. – Alexander Pope
Behold the child, by Natures kindly law pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw. – Alexander Pope
Ive spent a lot of Thanksgivings on the road with my band, so anytime that I can spend Thanksgiving with my family in a traditional aspect, eating sweet potatoes and cranberries and stuffing and all the trappings of Thanksgiving and then get on a treadmill the next day extra long, Im happy. – Richie Sambora