The Music Is In Minors.

Exhaust The Little Moment / Soon It Dies.

What Shall I Give My Children? Who Are Poor, / Who Are Adjudged The Leastwise Of The Land...

We Don't Ask A Flower Any Special Reason For Its Existence. We Just Look At It And Are Able To Accept It As Being Something Different From Ourselves.

There Can Be No Whiter Whiteness Than This One: An Insurance Man's Shirt On Its Morning Run.

Be Careful What You Swallow. Chew!