Most People Know More As They Get

One Of The Quainter Quirks Of Life Is That We Shall Never Know Who Dies On The Dame Day As We Do Ourselves.

I Wouldn't Mind Seeing China If I Could Come Back The Same Day.

All The Unhurried Day / Your Mind Lay Open Like A Drawer Of Knives.

Boys Dream Of Native Girls Who Bring Breadfruit, Whatever They Are.

I Think A Young Poet, Or An Old Poet, For That Matter, Should Try To Produce Something That Pleases Himself Personally, Not Only When He's Written It But A Couple Of Weeks Later. Then He Should See If It Pleases Anyone Else, By Sending It To The Kind Of Magazine He Likes Reading.