Poetry Is A Dance Music Measuring Buck-and-wing

Man Is A Long Time Coming. Man Will Yet Win. Brother May Yet Line Up With Brother: This Old Anvil Laughs At Many Broken Hammers.there Are Men Who Can't Be Bought.

Poetry Is The Harnessing Of The Paradox Of Earth Cradling Life And Then Entombing It.

When One Has The Right Swing And Enthusiasm, Selling Is Not Unlike Hunting, A Veritable Sport. To Scare Up The Game By Preliminary Talk And To Know How Long To Follow It, To Lose Your Gain Through Poorly Directed Argument, To Hang On To Game That Finally Eludes, To Boldly Confront, To Quickly Circle Around, To Keep On The Trail, Tireless And Keen, Till You Have Bagged Some Orders, There Is Some Satisfaction In Returning At Night, Tired Of The Trail, But Proud Of The Days Work Done.

Yesterday Is Done. Tomorrow Never Comes. Today Is Here. If You Don't Know What To Do, Sit Still And Listen. You May Hear Something. Nobody Knows.

There Are Dreams Stronger Than Death. Men And Women Die Holding These Dreams.