Quotes by James Thomas Fields

A farmer travelling with his load Picked up a horseshoe on the road, And nailed if fast to his barn door, That luck might down upon him pour; That every blessing known in life Might crown his homestead and his wife, And never any kind of harm Descend upon his growing farm.

How sweet and gracious, even in common speech, Is that fine sense which men call Courtesy! Wholesome as air and genial as the light, Welcome in every clime as breath of flowers, It transmutes aliens into trusting friends, And gives its over passport round the globe.

I'm an owl; you're another. Sir Critic, good day. And the barber kept on shaving.

Is n't God upon the ocean Just the same as on the land?

Oh, to be home again, home again, home again! Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill!

Paint me as I am, said Cromwell, Rough with age and gashed with wars; Show my visage as you find it, Less than truth my soul abhors.