If I Were To Live My Life

Keep Making The Movements Of Life.

Adjectives Are The Sugar Of Literature And Adverbs The Salt.

You Seemed To Me To Be Soaring Far Up In The Blue - To Be Sailing In The Bright Light, Over The Heads Of Men. Suddenly Some One Tosses Up A Faded Rosebud - A Missile That Should Never Have Reached You - And Down You Drop To The Ground.

It Exhibits The Effort Of An Essentially Prosaic Mind To Lift Itself, By A Prolonged Muscular Strain, Into Poetry.

Things Are Always Different From What They Might Be.