“I, Rooster John Byron, hereby place a curseUpon the Kennet and Avon Council,May they wander the land for ever,Never sleep twice in the same bed,Never drink water from the same well,And never cross the same river twice in a year.He who steps in my blood, may it stick to themLike hot oil. May it scorch them for life,And may the heat dry up their souls,And may they be filled with the melancholyWine won't shift. And all their newborn babiesBe born mangled, with the same marks,The same wounds of their fathers.Any uniform which brushes a single leaf of this woodIs cursed, and he who wears it this St George's Day,May he not see the next.”

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”

“The river never changes. it may alter it's path a bit, but it never changes. It's us who change. We come back here and we're are different. Not it." Form can't be extracted from the essence like some broth reduction."This river's taught me a good bit. Probably why I don't leave here. It winds, weaves, snakes around. Rarely goes the same twice. But, in the end, it always ends up in the same place and the gift is never the same." ..."it's the journey that matters.”

“The same river can never be crossed twice. The flowing water has no memory of footprints.”

“You never step in the same river of thought twice, because neither you nor it are the same.”

“Fire and water may as well agree in the same vessel, as grace and sin in the same heart.”

“It is natural to speak of hymns as "poems," indiscriminately, for they have the same structure. But a hymn is not necessarily a poem, while a poem that can be sung as a hymn is something more than a poem. Imagination makes poems; devotion makes hymns. There can be poetry without emotion, but a hymn never. A poem may argue; a hymn must not. In short to be a hymn, what is written must express spiritual feelings and desires. The music of faith, hope and charity will be somewhere in its strain.”