There Is No Plan. All Is Hazard.

We All Want Things We Can't Have. Being A Decent Human Being Is Accepting That.

How Can One Build A Better Self Unless On The Ruins Of The Old?

We All Write Poems; It Is Simply That Poets Are The Ones Who Write In Words.

It's Like The Day You Realize Dolls Are Dolls. I Pick Up My Old Self And I See It's Silly. A Toy I've Played With Too Often. It's A Little Sad, Like An Old Golliwog At The Bottom Of The Cupboard. Innocent And Used-up And Proud And Silly.

I Think It Is Interesting That We Have Come Back To Star- And Space Ships. Jet Will Do For A Transport Shorthand; Yet When Man Really Reaches, Across The Vast Seas Of Space, He Still Reaches In Ships.