Now Is The Time. It Is Never

You Remember Some Bedrooms You Have Slept In. There Are Bedrooms You Like To Remember And Others You Would Like To Forget.

Poetry Is The Journal Of A Sea Animal Living On Land, Wanting To Fly In The Air.

Time Is The Coin Of Your Life. It Is The Only Coin You Have, And Only You Can Determine How It Will Be Spent. Be Careful Lest You Let Other People Spend It For You.

So I Turn Once More To Those Who Sneer At This My City, And I Give Them Back The Sneer And Say To Them: Come And Show Me Another City With Lifted Head Singing So Proud To Be Alive And Coarse And Strong And Cunning.

To Work Hard, To Live Hard, To Die Hard, And Then Go To Hell After All Would Be Too Damned Hard.