One Smile Relieves A Heart That Grieves.

Through The Window I Can See Rooks Above The Cherry-tree, Sparrows In The Violet Bed, Bramble-bush And Bumble-bee, And Old Red Bracken Smoulders Still Among Boulders On The Hill, Far Too Bright To Seem Quite Dead. But Old Death, Who Can't Forget, Waits His Time And Watches Yet, Waits And Watches By The Door.

Every English Poet Should Master The Rules Of Grammar Before He Attempts To Bend Or Break Them.

Prose Books Are The Show Dogs I Breed And Sell To Support My Cat.

The Gift Of Independence Once Granted Cannot Be Lightly Taken Away Again.

We Forget Cruelty And Past Betrayal, Heedless Of Where The Next Bright Bolt May Fall.