The Cards Are Stacked (quite Properly, I

I'd Never Yell, "good Luck!" At Anybody. It Sounds Terrible, When You Think About It.

If You Do Something Too Good, Then, After A While, If You Don't Watch It, You Start Showing Off. And Then You're Not As Good Any More.

Where Do The Ducks Go In The Winter?

Sleep Tight, Ya Morons!

You Can't Argue With Someone Who Believes, Or Just Passionately Suspects, That The Poet's Function Is Not To Write What He Must Write But, Rather, To Write What He Would Write If His Life Depended On His Taking Responsibility For Writing What He Must In A Style Designed To Shut Out As Few Of His Old Librarians As Humanly Possible.