Lay Me On An Anvil, O God.

I'm An Idealist. I Don't Know Where I'm Going, But I'm On My Way.

I Have Written Some Poetry That I Don't Understand Myself.

In These Times You Have To Be An Optimist To Open Your Eyes When You Awake In The Morning.

By Night The Skyscraper Looms In The Smoke And The Stars And Has A Soul.

Lips Half-willing In A Doorway. Lips Half-singing At A Window. Eyes Half-dreaming In The Walls. Feet Half-dancing In A Kitchen. Even The Clocks Half-yawn The Hours And The Farmers Make Half-answers.