I Learned That It Is Possible For

Words Are The Mind's Wings, Are They Not?

I Am Beginning To Suspect All Elaborate And Special Systems Of Education. They Seem To Me To Be Built Up On The Supposition That Every Child Is A Kind Of Idiot Who Must Be Taught To Think. Whereas, If The Child Is Left To Himself, He Will Think More And Better, If Less Showily.

I Am Conscious Of A Soul-sense That Lifts Me Above The Narrow, Cramping Circumstances Of My Life. My Physical Limitations Are Forgotten- My World Lies Upward, The Length And The Breadth And The Sweep Of The Heavens Are Mine!

I Am Thankful That In A Troubled World No Calamity Can Prevent The Return Of Spring.

Poetry Is The Gate Through Which I Enter The Land Of Enchantment. Once Inside The Flaming Wall, My Limitations Fall From Me, And My Spirit Is Free.