In Just - Spring When The World

Nobody, Not Even The Rain, Has Such Small Hands

Treat A Man Like Dirt-he Produces Flowers.

There Is No Music Unless The Drum And The Drummer Are One.

My Advice To All Young People Who Wish To Become Poets Is: Do Something Easy, Like Learning How To Blow Up The World - Unless You're Not Only Willing, But Glad, To Feel And Work And Fight Till You Die.

Since Feelings Come First, Who Cares About The Syntax Of Things?