The Difference Between A Man And His

Not Yesterday I Learned To Know The Love Of Bare November Days Before The Coming Of The Snow.

A True Sonnet Goes Eight Lines And Then Takes A Turn For Better Or Worse And Goes Six Or Eight Lines More.

I Have Wished A Bird Would Fly Away, And Not Sing By My House All Day.

The Brain Is A Wonderful Organ; It Starts Working The Moment You Get Up In The Morning And Does Not Stop Until You Get Into The Office.

Everything Written Is As Good As It Is Dramatic. It Need Not Declare Itself In Form, But It Is Drama Or Nothing.