A Great Many People Who

Too Many Creatures Both Insects And Humans Estimate Their Own Value By The Amount Of Minor Irritation They Are Able To Cause To Greater Personalities Than Themselves.

It Takes All Sorts Of People To Make The Underworld.

It Would Be A Colorless World If Each Individual Did Not Secretly Believe Himself Superior To Almost Everyone Else.

Publishing A Volume Of Verse Is Like Dropping A Rose Petal Down The Grand Canyon And Waiting For The Echo.

This Is Another Day! Are Its Eyes Blurred With Maudlin Grief For Any Wasted Past? A Thousand Thousand Failures Shall Not Daunt! Let Dust Clasp Dust, Death, Death; I Am Alive!