I Have Always Paid Attention To The

Modern Poets Add A Lot Of Water To Their Ink.

The Longer I Live, The More It Grieves Me To See Man, Who Occupies His Supreme Place For The Very Purpose Of Imposing His Will Upon Nature, And Freeing Himself And His From An Outrageous Necessity--to See Him Taken Up With Some False Notion, And Doing Just The Opposite Of What He Wants To Do; And Then, Because The Whole Bent Of His Mind Is Spoilt, Bungling Miserably Over Everything.

It Is The Strange Fate Of Man, That Even In The Greatest Of Evils The Fear Of The Worst Continues To Haunt Him.

All Beginnings Are Delightful; The Threshold Is The Place To Pause.

I Have Come To The Frightening Conclusion That I Am The Decisive Element. It Is My Personal Approach That Creates The Climate. It Is My Daily Mood That Makes The Weather....in All Situations, It Is My Response That Decides Whether A Crisis Is Escalated Or De-escalated, And A Person Is Humanized Or Is Dehumanized.