In Times Of Joy, All Of Us

Good Can Imagine Evil; But Evil Cannot Imagine Good.

Most Poetry Is The Utterance Of A Man In Some State Of Passion, Love, Joy, Grief, Rage, Etc., And No Doubt This Is As It Should Be. But No Man Is Perpetually In A Passion And Those States In Which He Is Amused And Amusing, Detached And Irreverent, If Less Important, Are No Less Amusing. If There Were No Poets Who, Like Byron, Express These States, Poetry Would Lack Something.

As A Rule, It Was The Pleasure-haters Who Became Unjust.

But Once In A While The Odd Thing Happens Once In A While The Dream Comes True And The Whole Pattern Of Life Is Altered Once In A While, The Moon Turns Blue

To Save Your World You Asked This Man To Die; Would This Man, Could He See You Now, Ask Why?