...and Down They Forgot As Up They

My Advice To All Young People Who Wish To Become Poets Is: Do Something Easy, Like Learning How To Blow Up The World - Unless You're Not Only Willing, But Glad, To Feel And Work And Fight Till You Die.

Always The Beautiful Answer Who Asks A More Beautiful Question.

Peering From Some High Window; At The Gold Of November Sunset (and Feeling That If Day Has To Become Night This Is A Beautiful Way).

Your Head Is A Living Forest Full Of Songbirds.

A Politician Is An Arse Upon Which Everyone Has Sat Except A Man.