Rob A Neighbour With A Smile.

The Truly Just Is He Who Feels Half Guilty Of Your Misdeeds.

Poetry, My Dear Friends, Is A Sacred Incarnation Of A Smile. Poetry Is A Sigh That Dries The Tears. Poetry Is A Spirit Who Dwells In The Soul, Whose Nourishment Is The Heart, Whose Wine Is Affection. Poetry That Comes Not In This Form Is A False Messiah.

In The Autumn I Gathered All My Sorrows And Buried Them In My Garden. And When April Returned And Spring Came To Wed The Earth, There Grew In My Garden Beautiful Flowers Unlike All Other Flowers. And My Neighbors Came To Behold Them, And They All Said To Me, "when Autumn Comes Again, At Seeding Time, Will You Not Give Us Of The Seeds Of These Flowers That We May Have Them In Our Gardens?"

Come With Us To The Field, Or Go With Our Brothers To The Sea And Cast Your Net. For The Land And The Sea Shall Be Bountiful To You Even As To Us.

Our Worst Fault Is Our Preoccupation With The Faults Of Others.