There Is No One So Bound To

By Walking One Makes The Road, And Upon Glancing Behind Sees The Path

My Philosophy Is Fundamentally Sad, But I'm Not A Sad Man, And I Don't Believe I Sadden Anyone Else.

There Is No Way; We Make The Road By Walking It.

The Afternoon Is Bright, With Spring In The Air, A Mild March Afternoon, With The Breath Of April Stirring, I Am Alone In The Quiet Patio Looking For Some Old Untried Illusion - Some Shadow On The Whiteness Of The Wall Some Memory Asleep On The Stone Rim Of The Fountain, Perhaps In The Air The Light Swish Of Some Trailing Gown.

The Absence Of Vices Adds So Little To The Sum Of One's Virtues.