“Are you listening or are you just waiting for your turn to talk?” — Robert Montgomery Copy Share Image
Are you really listening... or are you just waiting for your turn to talk? — Robert Montgomery Copy Share Image
Where beats a heart within a human breast, There be Thou present, and Thy power adored! And oh! since all one common race are… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
How oft,—be witness, Guardian of our days!... The sky besprinkled o'er with rainbow hues, As if angelic wings had wanton'd there;... — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
The soul aspiring pants its source to mount,As streams meander level with their fount. — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
A universal beauty clothes the world, And one heart seems to beat for all mankind! — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
Berlin seems like a place of healing to me though: you have both the Holocaust Memorial and Hiroshima Strasse side-by-side there. You have the… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
Oh! now to be alone, on some grand height, Where heaven’s black curtains shadow all the sight, And watch the swollen clouds their bosom… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
And Thou, vast Ocean! on whole awful face Time's iron feet can print no ruin trace. — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
A moment is a mighty thing Beyond the soul's imagination; For in it, though we trace it not, How much there crowds of varied… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
I'm not avoiding your question on my relationship to the fashion world or my work being shown in a fashion setting. My work's most… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
And now, Though haply mellow'd by correcting time, I thank thee, Heaven! that the bereaving world Hath not diminish'd the subliming hopes Of youth,… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
Where beats a heart within a human breast, There be Thou present, and Thy power adored! And oh! since all are doom'd one common… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
Say, care-worn man, Whom Duty chains within the city walls, Amid the toiling crowd, how grateful plays The fresh wind o’er thy sickly brow,… — Robert Montgomery Copy Share
