Archives - December 2001
December 1, 2001
When a workman knows the use of his tools, he can make a door as well as a window.
December 2, 2001
Language is the archives of history.
December 3, 2001
No one wants advice -- only corroboration.
December 4, 2001
Piety is like garlic: a little goes a long way.
December 5, 2001
Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things.
December 6, 2001
Practical politics consists of ignoring facts.
December 7, 2001
We have wakened a sleeping giant, and filled him with a terrible resolve.
December 8, 2001
One sits uncomfortably on a too comfortable cushion.
December 9, 2001
In darkness, be light! And in your light preserve a spark of darkness, a spark of the Mystery from which light grows.
December 10, 2001
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, every cubic inch of space is a miracle.
December 11, 2001
If only God would give me some clear sign! Like making a large deposit in my name at a Swiss bank.
December 12, 2001
I am younger each year at the first snow.
December 13, 2001
Heirlooms we don't have in our family. But stories we've got.
December 14, 2001
Once and for all you must know that there's a universe of people outside, and you're responsible to it.
December 15, 2001
Spilling your guts is just exactly as charming as it sounds.
December 16, 2001
Knowledge slowly builds up what Ignorance in an hour pulls down.
December 17, 2001
Shouting has never made me understand anything.
December 18, 2001
No emotion is ever the final one.
December 19, 2001
Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead.
December 20, 2001
What orators lack in depth, they make up in length.
December 21, 2001
Our country: In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be right; but our country right or wrong.
December 22, 2001
Every situation -- no every moment -- is of infinite worth; for it is the representative of a whole eternity.
December 23, 2001
The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.
December 24, 2001
A perfectly managed Christmas correct in every detail is, like basted inside seams and letters answered by return, a sure sign of someone who hasn't enough to do.
December 25, 2001
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow/We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago.
December 26, 2001
One half the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.
December 27, 2001
I do not mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.
December 28, 2001
I could almost wish myself a dormouse or a she-bear, to sleep away the rest of this cold, cold winter.
December 29, 2001
If you have to be in a soap opera, try not to get the worst role.
December 30, 2001
I love my past. I love my present. I'm not ashamed of what I've had, and I'm not sad because I have it no longer.
December 31, 2001
Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go.