Perhaps It Does Not Matter So Very

All The Wild Sweetness Of The Flower Tangled Against The Wall. It Was That Magic, Silent Hour.... The Branches Grew So Tall They Twined Themselves Into A Bower. The Sun Shown ... And The Fall Of Yellow Blossom On The Grass! You Feel That Golden Rain? Both Of You Could Not Hold, Alas, (both Of You Tried, In Vain) A Memory, Stranger. So I Pass.... It Will Not Come Again.

I Love The Rain. I Want The Feeling Of It On My Face.

England Is Merely An Island Of Beef Swimming In A Warm Gulf Stream Of Gravy.

I Am Going To Enjoy Life In Paris I Know. It Is So Human And There Is Something Noble In The City... It Is A Real City, Old And Fine And Life Plays In It For Everybody To See.

I Think I Hate Snow, Downright Hate It. There Is Something Stupefying In It, A Kind Of 'you Must Be Worse Before You're Better,' And Down It Spins.