We Cannot And Must Not Get Rid

What Is My Life If I Am No Longer Useful To Others.

Culture Which Smooth The Whole World Licks, Also Unto The Devil Sticks.

It Is Not Doing The Thing We Like To Do, But Liking The Thing We Have To Do, That Makes Life Blessed.

The Poet Should Seize The Particular, And He Should, If There Be Anything Sound In It, Thus Represent The Universal.

This World Could Not Exist If It Were Not So Simple. The Ground Has Been Tilled A Thousand Years, Yet Its Powers Remain Ever The Same; A Little Rain, A Little Sun, And Each Spring It Grows Green Again.