No Matter What We Are,

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

For When A Woman Is Left Too Much Alone, Sooner Or Later She Begins To Think; And No Man Knows What Then She May Discover.

Where's The Need Of Singing Now?

I Wonder More And More Just Where I May Have Come Out If I Had Never Seen Harvard Square.

I Have Been Reading The Old Testament, A Most Bloodthirsty And Perilous Book For The Young. Jehovah Is Beyond Doubt The Worst Character In Fiction.