Sail On, Sail On, O' Might Ship

I Think The Term Poet Is A Very Exalted Term And Should Be Applied To A Man At The End Of His Work. When He Looks Back Over The Body Of His Work And He's Written Poetry Then Let The Verdict Be That He's A Poet.

I Lit A Thin Green Candle To Make You Jealous Of Me, But The Room Just Filled Up With Mosquitoes.

Songs Don’t Dignify Human Activity. Human Activity Dignifies The Song.

Except For A Couple Of Hours In The Morning Which I Passed In The Company Of A Sage I Stayed In Bed Without Food Only A Few Mouthfuls Of Water “you Are A Fine Looking Old Man” I Said To Myself In The Mirror “and What Is More You Have The Correct Attitude You Don’t Care If It Ends Or If It Goes On And As For The Women And The Music There Will Be Plenty Of That In Paradise” Then I Went To The Mosque Of Memory To Express My Gratitude

When You Stop Thinking About Yourself All The Time, A Certain Sense Of Repose Overtakes You.