It Is Very Iniquitous To

Good Work And Joyous Play Go Hand In Hand. When Play Stops, Old Age Begins. Play Keeps You From Taking Life Too Seriously.

Dim With The Mist Of Years, Gray Flits The Shade Of Power.

Poetry Should Only Occupy The Idle.

There Is Something Pagan In Me That I Cannot Shake Off. In Short, I Deny Nothing, But Doubt Everything.

What Deep Wounds Ever Closed Without A Scar?