There Are Men And Women So Lonely

Who Am I, Where Have I Been, And Where Am I Going?

And Those Who Say, "i'll Try Anything Once," Often Try Nothing Twice, Three Times, Arriving Late At The Gate Of Dreams Worth Dying For.

His Books Were Part Of Him. Each Year Of His Life, It Seemed, His Books Became More And More A Part Of Him. This Room, Thirty By Twenty Feet, And The Walls Of Shelves Filled With Books, Had For Him The Murmuring Of Many Voices. In The Books Of Herodotus, Tacitus, Rabelais, Thomas Browne, John Milton, And Scores Of Others, He Had Found Men Of Face And Voice More Real To Him Than Many A Man He Had Met For A Smoke And A Talk.

Be Careful With Your Words, Once They Are Said, They Can Only Be Forgiven, Not Forgotten.

Poetry Is A Search For Syllables To Shoot At The Barriers Of The Unknown And The Unknowable.