Our Earth Is But A Small Star

If Two New Hampshiremen Aren't A Match For The Devil, We Might As Well Give The Country Back To The Indians.

Honesty Is As Rare As A Man Without Self-pity.

God Pity Us Indeed, For We Are Human, And Do Not Always See, The Vision When It Comes, The Shining Change, Or, If We See It, Do Not Follow It, Because It Is Too Hard, Too Strange, Too New, Too Unbelievable, Too Difficult, Warring Too Much With Common, Easy Ways, And Now I Know This, Standing In This Light, Who Have Been Half Alive These Many Years, Brooding On My Own Sorrow, My Own Pain, Saying "i Am A Barren Bough. Expect, Nor Fruit Nor Blossom From A Barren Bough."

Money Is Sullen And Wisdom Is Sly, But Youth Is The Pollen That Blows Through The Sky And Does Not Ask Why.

Whatever Poetry That Was In Me Was Coming Out In The Form Of Constructing Art Books!