Art, It Seems To Me, Should Simplify.

The Trees And Shrubbery Seemed Well-groomed And Social, Like Pleasant People.

Give The People A New Word And They Think They Have A New Fact.

The Air Was Cool Enough To Make The Warm Sun Pleasant On One's Back And Shoulders, And So Clear That The Eye Could Follow A Hawk Up And Up, Into The Blazing Blue Depths Of The Sky.

It Does Not Matter Much Whom We Live With In This World, But It Matters A Great Deal Whom We Dream Of.

Money Is A Protection, A Cloak; It Can Buy One Quiet, And Some Sort Of Dignity.