At Times It Is Strangely Sedative To

It's Horrible Getting Older. I Mean, It's Wonderful Because You See The Circles Of Life Get Completed. But It's Horrible Losing Your Looks.

One Writes Not By Will But By Surrender.

Never Joke With The Press. Irony Does Not Translate Into Newsprint.

As A Seasoned Insomniac, I Knew Sometimes The Way To Beat Sleeplessness Was To Outwit It: To Pretend You Didn't Care About Sleeping. Then Sometimes Sleep Became Piqued, Like A Rejected Lover, And Crept Up To Try To Seduce You.

Poems, Like Dreams, Are A Sort Of Royal Road To The Unconscious. They Tell You What Your Secret Self Cannot Express.