But The More Poetry One Reads The

Outside The Sky Is Light With Stars

I Think I Hate Snow, Downright Hate It. There Is Something Stupefying In It, A Kind Of 'you Must Be Worse Before You're Better,' And Down It Spins.

We Cling To Our Last Pleasures As The Tree Clings To Its Last Leaves.

To Acknowledge The Presence Of Fear Is To Give Birth To Failure.

It Is Of Immense Importance To Learn To Laugh At Ourselves.