All Poets Adore Explosions, Thunderstorms, Tornadoes, Conflagrations,

America Has Always Been A Country Of Amateurs Where The Professional, That Is To Say, The Man Who Claims Authority As A Member Of An élite Which Knows The Law In Some Field Or Other, Is An Object Of Distrust And Resentment.

We Till Shadowed Days Are Done, We Must Weep And Sing Duty's Conscious Wrong, The Devil In The Clock

Thousands Have Lived Without Love, Not One Without Water.

Life Is A Picnic On A Precipice.

You Owe It To All Of Us All Get On With What You're Good At.