A Subject For A Great Poet Would

If We Train Our Conscience, It Kisses Us While It Hurts

Man Is No Longer An Artist, He Has Become A Work Of Art.

The Machine Is Impersonal, It Takes The Pride Away From A Piece Of Work, The Individual Merits And Defects That Go Along With Allwork That Is Not Done By A Machine--which Is To Say, Its Little Bit Of Humanity.

Those With Very Loud Voices In Their Throats Are Nearly Incapable Of Thinking Subtle Thoughts.

We Should Not Talk About Our Friends: Otherwise We Will Talk Away The Feeling Of Friendship.