There's Not A Good Poet I Know

Mysteries, Like The Masonic Rites, Are Ones Parents And Elders Are Sworn Not To Reveal To The Uninitiated, Which Include All Children. And So We Sought For Signs.

A Lot Of The Fun Lies In Trying To Penetrate The Mystery; And This Is Best Done By Saying Over The Lines To Yourself Again And Again, Till They Pass Through The Stage Of Sounding Like Nonsense, And Finally Return To A Full Sense That Had At First Escaped Notice.

Merely To Have Survived Is Not An Index Of Excellence.

If The Heart Has Its Reasons, Perhaps The Body Has Its Own Lumbering Sort Of Carnal Spirit, Felt In The Tingling Bruises Of Collision, And Known To Captains As Esprit De Corps.

I Look And Look, / As Though I Could Be Saved Simply By Looking