Life Is Tons Of Discipline.

Now No Joy But Lacks Salt That Is Not Dashed With Pain And Weariness And Fault; I Crave The Stain Of Tears, The Aftermark Of Almost Too Much Love, The Sweet Of Bitter Bark And Burning Clove.

Create And Stir Other People To Create.

Fortunately, We Don't Need To Know How Bad An Age Is. There Is Something We Can Always Be Doing Without Reference To How Good Or Bad The Age Is.

Poets Are Like Baseball Pitchers. Both Have Their Moments. The Intervals Are The Tough Things.

Any Eye Is An Evil Eye That Looks In On To A Mood Apart.