The Moon Is A Friend For The

Poetry Is A Shuffling Of Boxes Of Illusions Buckled With A Strap Of Facts.

Always The Path Of American Destiny Has Been Into The Unknown. Always There Arose Enough Reserves Of Strength, Balances Of Sanity, Portions Of Wisdom To Carry The Nation Through To A Fresh Start With Ever-renewing Vitality.

We Live In The Time Of The Colossal Upright Oblong.

A Liar Is A Liar And Lives On The Lies He Tells And Dies In A Life Of Lies.

To Work Hard, To Live Hard, To Die Hard, And Then Go To Hell After All Would Be Too Damned Hard.