Nothing Happens Unless First We Dream.

Time Is The Coin Of Life. Only You Can Determine How It Will Be Spent.

I Been A Wanderin' Early And Late, New York City To The Golden Gate An' It Looks Like I'm Never Gonna Cease My Wanderin'.

Poetry Is An Art Practiced With The Terribly Plastic Material Of Human Language.

I Am Still Studying Verbs And The Mystery Of How They Connect Nouns. I Am More Suspicious Of Adjectives Than At Any Other Time In All My Born Days.

After The Sunset On The Prairie, There Are Only The Stars