More Men Die Of Worry Than Of

Don't Be An Agnostic. Be Something.

But I May Be One Who Does Not Care Ever To Have Tree Bloom Or Bear.

Sarcastic Science, She Would Like To Know, In Her Complacent Ministry Of Fear, How We Propose To Get Away From Here When She Has Made Things So We Have To Go Or Be Wiped Out. Will She Be Asked To Show Us How By Rocket We May Hope To Steer To Some Star Off There, Say, A Half Light-year Through Temperature Of Absolute Zero? Why Wait For Science To Supply The How When Any Amateur Can Tell It Now? The Way To Go Away Should Be The Same As Fifty Million Years Ago We Came- If Anyone Remembers How That Was I Have A Theory, But It Hardly Does.

I Have Just Been To A City In The West, A City Full Of Poets, A City They Have Made Safe For Poets. The Whole City Is So Lovely That You Do Not Have To Write It Up To Make It Poetry; It Is Ready-made For You. But, I Don't Know - The Poetry Written In That City Might Not Seem Like Poetry If Read Outside Of The City. It Would Be Like The Jokes Made When You Were Drunk; You Have To Get Drunk Again To Appreciate Them.

Create And Stir Other People To Create.