His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind.

A light wind swept over the corn, and all nature laughed in the sunshine.

I love standing up behind the blocks, and I love that moment just before you dive in and it goes quiet, and you take a deep breath and you just dive, and then you try and win, but that moment just before I go, that's why I race.

My soul is awakened,
my spirit is soaring.

I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking without being miserable one half his days and mad the other.

Never touch a butterfly's wing with your finger.