by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
from Collected Poems
Tina hugs actress Betty White after receiving the 12th annual Mark Twain Prize for American Humor hosted by the Kennedy Center in Washington
November 9, 2010
so much goodness in one photo.
me, too, katharine… me, too.
People ask me why I named the show ‘Conan.’ I did it so I’d be harder to replace
i love this man so.