Happiness Makes Up In Height

The Woods Are Lovely, Dark, And Deep But I Have Promises To Keep...

Summary Riposte To The Dreary Wail There's No Knowing What Love Is All About. Poets Know A Lot.

I Was Under Twenty When I Deliberately Put It To Myself One Night After Good Conversation That There Are Moments When We Actually Touch In Talk What The Best Writing Can Only Come Near. The Curse Of Our Book Language Is Not So Much That It Keeps Forever To The Same Set Phrases . . . But That It Sounds Forever With The Same Reading Tones. We Must Go Out Into The Vernacular For Tones That Haven't Been Brought To Book.

A Civilized Society Is One Which Tolerates Eccentricity To The Point Of Doubtful Sanity.

And Nothing To Look Backward To With Pride, And Nothing To Look Forward To With Hope.