And The Rest Is Rust And Stardust.

A Person Hoping To Become A Poet Must Have The Capacity Of Thinking Of Several Things At A Time.

The Pleasures Of Writing Correspond Exactly To The Pleasures Of Reading

Do Not Be Angry With The Rain; It Simply Does Not Know How To Fall Upwards.

- Might It Console You To Know That I Expect Nothing But Torture From Her Return? That I Regard You As A Bird Of Paradise? She Shook Her Head. - That My Admiration For You Is Painfully Strong? - I Want Van – She Cried – And Not Intangible Admiration. - Intangible? You Goose. You My Gauge It, You May Brush It Once Very Lightly With The Knuckles Of You Gloved Hand. I Said Knuckles. I Said Once. That Will Do. I Can't Kiss You. Not Even Your Burning Face. Good-bye, Pet. Tell Edmond To Take A Nap After He Returns. I Shall Need Him At Two In The Morning.

Mnemosyne, One Must Admit, Has Shown Herself To Be A Very Careless Girl.