A Liberal Is A Man Too Broadminded

The Only Way Out Is Through.

Writing Free Verse Is Like Playing Tennis With The Net Down.

Happiness Makes Up In Height For What It Lacks In Length.

My Long Two-pointed Ladder's Sticking Through A Tree Toward Heaven Still, And There's A Barrel That I Didn't Fill Beside It, And There May Be Two Or Three Apples I Didn't Pick Upon Some Bough. But I Am Done With Apple-picking Now. Essence Of Winter Sleep Is On The Night, The Scent Of Apples: I Am Drowsing Off.

All Thought Is A Feat Of Association; Having What's In Front Of You Bring Up Something In Your Mind That You Almost Didn't Know You Knew