Dont know much about history, — Sam Cooke

"At first I thought it was infatuation But woo, its lasted so long. Now I find myself wanting To marry you and take you home. Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.You, you, you, you send me I know you send me I know you send me Honest you do."

"Another Saturday night and I aint got nobody, I have some money cause I just got paid. How I wish I had someone to talk to, Im in an awful way."

"All day long they work so hard Till the sun is goin down. Working on the highways and byways And wearing, wearing a frown. You hear them moanin their lives away. Then you hear somebody say:"Thats the sound of the men working on the chain gang. Thats the sound of the men working on the chain gang.""

"Folks say that youve Found someone new To do the things I used to do for you. Just call my name, Im not ashamed, Ill come running back to you.Cant sleep at night, I cant eat a bite. When you were mine I didnt treat you right. Just call my name, I know, I know Im not ashamed. Ill come running back to you."

"If you ever change your mind About leaving, leaving me behind Baby, bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin Bring it on home to me Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)."

"Let me tell you bout a place Somewhere up a New York way, Where the people are so gay, Twistin the night away...Here they have a lot of fun, Puttin trouble on the run. Man, you find the old and young, Twistin the night away.Theyre twistin, twistin Everybodys feelin great. Theyre twistin, twistin Theyre twistin the night away."

"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."

"yes is a pleasant country... love is a deeper season than reason"

"true lovers in each happening of their hearts live longer than all which and every who"

"What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way."

"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flower Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!"

"Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at others Wanings shouldst thou fret? Then only mightst thou feel a just regret, Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light In selfish forethought of neglect and slight."