Poverty Makes You Wise But It's A

Here Today We Huddle Tight As The Darkest Heathens Might The Snow Falls Chilly On Our Skin The Snow Is Forcing Its Way In. Hush, Snow, Come In With Us To Dwell: We Were Thrown Out By Heaven As Well.

All Artforms Are In The Service Of The Greatest Of All Arts: The Art Of Living.

The Headlong Stream Is Termed Violent But The River Bed Hemming It In Is Termed Violent By No One.

With Drooping Shoulders The Majority Sit Hunched, Their Foreheads Furrowed Like Stony Ground That Has Been Repeatedly Ploughed-up To No Purpose.

The Aim Of Science Is Not To Open The Door To Infinite Wisdom, But To Set A Limit To Infinite Error.