If The Writer Does Not Cry, The

The Fact Is The Sweetest Dream That Labor Knows.

Most Of The Change We Think We See In Life Is Due To Truths Being In And Out Of Favor.

All Great Things Are Done For Their Own Sake.

Sentences Are Not Different Enough To Hold The Attention Unless They Are Dramatic. No Ingenuity Of Varying Structure Will Do. All That Can Save Them Is The Speaking Tone Of Voice Somehow Entangled In The Words And Fastened To The Page For The Ear Of The Imagination. That Is All That Can Save Poetry From Sing-song, All That Can Save Prose From Itself.

I'd Like To Get Away From Earth Awhile / And Then Come Back To It And Begin Over.