For Hard It Is To Keep From

Something We Were Withholding Made Us Weak, Until We Found It Was Ourselves.

Nature Is Always Hinting At Us.

Before I Built A Wall I'd Ask To Know What I Was Walling In Or Walling Out, And To Whom I Was Like To Give Offence. Something There Is That Doesn't Love A Wall, That Wants It Down.

You Know How Cunningly Mankind Is Planned: We Have One Loving And One Hating Hand. The Loving's Made To Hold Each Other Like, While With The Hating Other Hand We Strike.

A Poet Must Never Make A Statement Simply Because It Sounds Poetically Exciting; He Must Also Believe It To Be True." - W. H. Auden "a Poem...begins As A Lump In The Throat, A Sense Of Wrong, A Homesickness, A Lovesickness...it Finds The Thought And The Thought Finds The Words.