A Poet's Mission Is To Make Others

Who Tells A Finer Tale Than Any Of Us. Silence Does.

People Who Dream When They Sleep At Night Know Of A Special Kind Of Happiness Which The World Of The Day Holds Not, A Placid Ecstasy, And Ease Of Heart, That Are Like Honey On The Tongue. They Also Know That The Real Glory Of Dreams Lies In Their Atmosphere Of Unlimited Freedom. It Is Not The Freedom Of The Dictator, Who Enforces His Own Will On The World, But The Freedom Of The Artist, Who Has No Will, Who Is Free Of Will.

It Is More Than Their Land That You Take Away From The People, Whose Native Land You Take. It Is Their Past As Well, Their Roots And Their Identity. If You Take Away The Things That They Have Been Used To See And Will Be Expecting To See, You May, In A Way, As Well Take Their Eyes.

God Made The World, My Lord, And Looked At It, And Saw That It Was Good. Yes. But What If The World Had Looked Back At Him, To See Whether He Was Good Or Not?

The Cure For Anything Is Salt Water: Sweat, Tears Or The Sea.