Macavity, Macavity, There's No One Like Macavity,

I Grow Old … I Grow Old … I Shall Wear The Bottoms Of My Trousers Rolled.

Genuine Poetry Can Communicate Before It Is Understood.

I've Been Born, And Once Is Enough.

It Is Not Necessarily Those Lands Which Are The Most Fertile Or Most Favored In Climate That Seem To Me The Happiest, But Those In Which A Long Struggle Of Adaptation Between Man And His Environment Has Brought Out The Best Qualities Of Both.

Each Venture Is A New Beginning, A Raid On The Inarticulate With Shabby Equipment Always Deteriorating In The General Mess Of Imprecision Of Feeling.