The Debts We Owe Ourselves Are The

Speech Is The Small Change Of Silence.

We Know The Degree Of Refinement In People By The Matter They Laugh At And The Ring Of The Laugh.

And If I Drink Oblivion Of A Day, / So Shorten I The Stature Of My Soul.

The Man Of Science Is Nothing If Not A Poet Gone Wrong.

Poetry Is Talking On Tiptoe.