Introspection Is A Devouring Monster.

Beware Of Allowing A Tactless Word, A Rebuttal, A Rejection To Obliterate The Whole Sky

The Complaints Of The Child In Us Will Never Cease Lamenting Until It Is Consoled, Answered, Understood. Only Then Will It Lie Still In Us, Like Our Fears. It Will Die In Peace And Leave Us What The Child Leaves To The Man - The Sense Of Wonder.

Age Does Not Protect You From Love. But Love, To Some Extent, Protects You From Age.

The Poet Is One Who Is Able To Keep The Fresh Vision Of The Child Alive.

I Will Not Adjust Myself To The World. I Am Adjusted To Myself.