Friends: People Who Borrow My

Poets And Kings Are But The Clerks Of Time, Tiering The Same Dull Webs Of Discontent, Clipping The Same Sad Alnage Of The Years.

Love Must Have Wings To Fly Away From Love, And To Fly Back Again.

The World Is A Kind Of Spiritual Kindergarten Where Millions Of Bewildered Infants Are Trying To Spell "god" With The Wrong Blocks.

The Typical Entrepreneur Is No Longer The Bold And Tireless Man Of Marshall, Or The Sly And Rapacious Moneybags Of Marx, But A Mass Of Inert Shareholders, Indistinguishable From Rentiers, Who Employ Salaried Managers To Run Their Concerns.

Your Dollar Is Your Only Word, / The Wrath Of It Your Only Fear. / You Build It Altars Tall Enough / To Make You See, But Your Are Blind; / You Cannot Leave It Long Enough / To Look Before You Or Behind.