Poetry Is Prose Bewitched, A Music Made

Love Of Others Is The Appreciation Of One's Self.

Die In The Past. Live In The Future.

Fling Yourself At Life And Let Yourself Feel What You Do Feel Upon The Very Tick Of The Second; Snatch The Images Of Life That Fly Through The Brain. If You Are Very Frank With Yourself And Don't Mind How Ridiculous Anything That Comes To You May Seem, You Will Have A Chance Of Capturing The Symbols Of Your Direct Reactions. Thus, You Will, Perhaps, Find Yourself Reaching A Heightened Sense Of Awareness Completely Outside The Realm Of Mundane Experience.

Poetry Is Prose Bewitched, A Music Made Of Visual Thoughts, The Sound Of An Idea.

Life Is Only Limited By Our Prejudices. Destroy Them, And You Cease To Be At The Mercy Of Yourself.