Quotes from James Whitcomb Riley

He Is Not Dead I cannot say, and I will not say That he is dead. He is just away. With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand, He has wandered into an unknown land And left us dreaming how very fair It needs must be, since he lingers there. And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn For an old-time step, and the glad return, Think of him faring on, as dear In the love of There as the love of Here. Think of him still as the same. I say, He is not dead—he is just away.

I bless the hoss from hoof to head - From head to hoof, and tale to mane! - I bless the hoss, as I have said, From head to hoof, and back again!

When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.

A Parting Guest What delightful hosts are they— Life and Love! Lingeringly I turn away, This late hour, yet glad enough They have not withheld from me Their high hospitality. So, with face lit with delight And all gratitude, I stay Yet to press their hands and say, Thanks.—So fine a time! Good night.

To all the little children:- The happy ones; and sad ones; the boisterous ones and glad ones; The good ones- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.

I so ill deserve the place his arms make for me.

In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm

I woo'd a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind.

O weary heart and hand,     Go bravely to the strife— No victory is half so grand     As that which conquers life! One day shall yet be thine—     The day that waits for all Whose prayerful eyes are things divine     When evening shadows fall.

And Philiper Flash, With a horrible slash, Whacked his jugular open and went to smash.

We must get home! How could we stray like this? So far from home, we know not where it is, Only in some fair, apple-blossomy place Of children's faces--and the mother's face We dimly dream it, till the vision clears