But If I Can't Be Sorry, Why,

Love Is Not All; It Is Not Meat Nor Drink.

On And On Eternally Shall Your Altered Fluid Run, Bud And Bloom And Go To Seed; But Your Singing Days Are Done

The Younger Generation Forms A Country Of Its Own. It Has No Geographical Boundaries. I've Talked With Young Hungarians In Budapest, With Young Italians In Rome, With Young Frenchmen In Paris, And With Young People All Over. ... These Young People Are Going To Do Things. They Are Going To Change Things.

Summer Set Lip To Earth's Bosom Bare, And Left The Flushed Print In A Poppy There. I Will Touch A Hundred Flowers And Not Pick One.

Let Geese Gabble And Hiss, But Heroes Seek Release From Dusty Bondage Into Luminous Air.