I don't know a soul that hasn't been battered Don't have a friend who feels at ease Don't know of a dream that's not been shattered Or driven to its knees
I have six locks on my door all in a row. When I go out, I only lock every other one. I figure no matter how long somebody stands there picking the locks, they are always locking three.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.