I Cry Out For Order And Find

Only The Poet Can Look Beyond The Detail And See The Whole Picture.

Legends Die Hard. They Survive As Truth Rarely Does.

We Rely Upon The Poets, The Philosophers, And The Playwrights To Articulate What Most Of Us Can Only Feel, In Joy Or Sorrow. They Illuminate The Thoughts For Which We Only Grope; They Give Us The Strength And Balm We Cannot Find In Ourselves. Whenever I Feel My Courage Wavering, I Rush To Them. They Give Me The Wisdom Of Acceptance, The Will And Resiliance To Push On.

One Has To Grow Up With Good Talk In Order To Form The Habit Of It.

Egocentrics Are Attracted To The Inept. It Gives Them One More Excuse For Patting Themselves On The Back.