The Worst Thing About War Is That

A Farmer's Got To Be Born, Same As A Fool. You Can't Make A Corn Pone Out Of Flour Dough By The Twistin' Of It.

The Transcendental Point Of View, The Habit Of Thought Bred By Communion With Earth And Sky, Had Refined The Grain While It Had Roughened The Husk.

What Depresses Me Is The Inevitable Way The Second Rate Forges Ahead And The Deserving Is Left Behind.

America Has Enjoyed The Doubtful Blessing Of A Single-track Mind.

It Was A Perfect Spring Afternoon, And The Air Was Filled With Vague, Roving Scents, As If The Earth Exhaled The Sweetness Of Hidden Flowers.