The Abominable Effort To Take One’s Sins

I Wished For Nothing Beyond Her Smile, And To Walk With Her Thus, Hand In Hand, Along A Sun Warmed, Flower Bordered Path.

The Anxiety We Have For The Figure We Cut, For Our Personage, Is Constantly Cropping Out. We Are Showing Off And Are Often More Concerned With Making A Display Than With Living. Whoever Feels Observed Observes Himself.

Though A Revolution May Call Itself "national," It Always Marks The Victory Of A Single Party.

'therefore' Is A Word The Poet Must Not Know.

When I Cease To Be Indignant I Will Have Begun My Old Age.