Enough Small Empty Boxes Thrown Into A

The Shovel Is The Brother To The Gun.

It Is The Business Of Little Minds To Shrink.

Poetry Is A Section Of River-fog And Moving Boat-lights, Delivered Between Bridges And Whistles, So One Says, 'oh!' And Another, 'how?'

The Secret Of Happiness Is To Admire Without Desiring.

If [america] Forgets Where She Came From, If The People Lose Sight Of What Brought Them Along, If She Listens To The Deniers And Mockers, Then Will Begin The Rot And Dissolution.