It Is Written In The Book Of

Just Keep Playing, Mastering As You Do The Step Into Disorder This One Meant. Don't You See It's All We Can Do? Meanwhile, Great Fires Arise, As Of Haystacks Aflame. The Dial Has Been Set And That's Ominous, But All Your Graciousness In Living Conspires With It, Now That This Is Our Home: A Place To Be From, And Have People Ask About.

There Is The View That Poetry Should Improve Your Life. I Think People Confuse It With The Salvation Army.

It Is Written In The Book Of Usable Minutes That All Things Have Their Center In Their Dying.

Sometimes A Musical Phrase Would Perfectly Sum Up The Mood Of A Moment. One Of Those Lovelorn Sonatas For Wind Instruments Was Riding Past On A Solemn White Horse. Everybody Wondered Who The New Arrival Was.

Not Until It Starts To Stink Does The Inevitable Happen.