The Only Certain Freedom's In Departure.

The World Is Full Of Willing People; Some Willing To Work, The Rest Willing To Let Them.

The Ear Is The Only True Writer And The Only True Reader. I Know People Who Read Without Hearing The Sentence Sounds And They Were The Fastest Readers. Eye Readers We Call Them. They Get The Meaning By Glances. But They Are Bad Readers Because They Miss The Best Part Of What A Good Writer Puts Into His Work.

Yet Some Say Love By Being Thrall And Simply Staying Possesses All In Several Beauty That Thought Fares Far To Find Fused In Another Star.

Tree At My Window, Window Tree, My Sash Is Lowered When Night Comes On; But Let There Never Be Curtain Drawn Between You And Me.

I End Not Far From My Going Forth By Picking The Faded Blue Of The Last Remaining Aster Flower To Carry Again To You.