...and Down They Forgot As Up They

Private Property Began The Instant Somebody Had A Mind Of His Own.

If At The End Of Your First Ten Or Fifteen Years Of Fighting And Working And Feeling, You Find You've Written One Line Of One Poem, You'll Be Very Lucky Indeed.

You Shall Above All Things Be Glad And Young.

Humanity I Love You Because You Are Perpetually Putting The Secret Of Life In Your Pants And Forgetting It's There And Sitting Down On It And Because You Are Forever Making Poems In The Lap Of Death Humanity I Hate You

Listen; There's A Hell Of A Good Universe Next Door: Let's Go.