Where flowers bloom so does hope.
Perhaps no place in any community is so totally democratic as the town library. The only entrance requirement is interest.
Almost every person, from childhood, has been touched by the untamed beauty of wildflowers.
I believe that one of the great problems for us as individuals is the depression and the tension resulting from existence in a world which is increasingly less pleasing to the eye.
Every politician should have been born an orphan and remain a bachelor.
It’s odd that you can get so anesthetized by your own pain or your own problem that you don’t quite fully share the hell of someone close to you.
Then there’s the joy of getting your desk clean, and knowing that all your letters are answered, and you can see the wood on it again.
Even though Christmas can be a lot of work, we all know the bustle is worth the bother.
While the spirit of neighborliness was important on the frontier because neighbors were so few, it is even more important now because our neighbors are so many.
How lucky we are to have such a treasure of memories.
The first lady is, and always has been, an unpaid public servant elected by one person, her husband.
Wildflowers are the stuff of my heart!
I love Washington, but it is a self-important town.
It is wonderful to be in on the creation of something, see it used, and then walk away and smile at it.
The coach has turned into a pumpkin and the mice have all run away.
I was keenly aware that I had a unique opportunity, a front row seat, on an unfolding story and nobody else was going to see it from quite the vantage point that I saw it.
I have learned something about the job of being the President’s wife. She is not chosen by anyone except her husband and she really has no obligations except to him.
Science and time and necessity have propelled us, the United States, to be the general store of the world, dealers in everything. Most of all, merchants for a better way of life.
We had a delicious dinner of too much.
My heart found its home long ago in the beauty, mystery, order and disorder of the flowering earth.
Children are likely to live up to what you believe of them.