Day's Work Is Still To Do, Whatever

The Best Thing We Can Do Is To Make Wherever We're Lost In Look As Much Like Home As We Can.

The Skirts Of The Gods Drag In Our Mud. We Feel The Touch And Take It To Be A Kiss.

The Moon Is Nothing But A Circumambulating Aphrodisiac Divinely Subsidized To Provoke The World Into A Rising Birth-rate

Poetry Is The Language In Which Man Explores His Own Amazement... Says Heaven And Earth In One Word... Speaks Of Himself And His Predicament As Though For The First Time.

Comedy Is An Escape, Not From Truth But From Despair; A Narrow Escape Into Faith.