I Am Not A Teacher. I Am

What We Live By We Die By.

I Could Define Poetry This Way: It Is That Which Is Lost Out Of Both Prose And Verse In Translation.

... A Nation Has To Take Its Natural Course Of Progress Round And Round In Circles From King To Mob To King To Mob To King Until The Eddy Of It Eddies Out.

He Says The Best Way Out Is Always Through. / And I Can Agree To That, Or In So Far / As That I Can See No Way Out But Through

The Rose Is A Rose, And Was Always A Rose. But The Theory Now Goes That The Apple's A Rose.