Who Do You Want To Be In

A Fact: One Picks It Up And Reads It, And Puts It Down, And There Is An End To It. But An Idea! That One May Pick Up, And Reflect Upon, And Oppose, And Expand, And So Pass A Delightful Afternoon Altogether.

A Lifetime Isn't Long Enough For The Beauty Of This World And The Responsibilities Of Your Life.

The Language Of The Poem Is The Language Of Particulars.

Oh, Yesterday, That One, We All Cry Out. Oh, That One! How Rich And Possible Everything Was! How Ripe, Ready, Lavish, And Filled With Excitement--how Hopeful We Were On Those Summer Days, Under The Clean, White Racing Clouds. Oh, Yesterday!

Are My Boots Old? Is My Coat Torn? / Am I No Longer Young, And Still Not Half-perfect?