I Like Spaghetti Because You

If You Tell A Novelist, 'life's Not Like That', He Has To Do Something About It. The Poet Simply Replies, 'no, But I Am.'

One Of The Sadder Things, I Think, Is How Our Birthdays Slowly Sink: Presents And Parties Disappear, The Cards Grow Fewer Year By Year, Till, When One Reaches Sixty-five, How Many Care We're Still Alive?

In Everyone There Sleeps A Sense Of Life Lived According To Love.

Walk With The Dead For Fear Of Death.

No One Can Tear Your Thread Out Of Himself. No One Can Tie You Down Or Set You Free.