This Is The Simplest Of All Thoughts,

If There Wasn't Death, I Think You Couldn't Go On.

Marriage I Think For Women Is The Best Of Opiates. It Kills The Thoughts That Think About The Thoughts, It Is The Best Of Opiates. So Said Maria. But Too Long In Solitude She'd Dwelt, And Too Long Her Thoughts Had Felt Their Strength. So When The Man Drew Near, Out Popped Her Thoughts And Covered Him With Fear. Poor Maria! Better That She Had Kept Her Thoughts On A Chain, For Now She's Alone Again And All In Pain; She Sighs For The Man That Went And The Thoughts That Stay To Trouble Her Dreams By Night And Her Dreams By Day.

All Poetry Has To Do Is To Make A Strong Communication. All The Poet Has To Do Is Listen. The Poet Is Not An Important Fellow. There Will Also Be Another Poet.

I Like Food, I Like Stripping Vegetables Of Their Skins, I Like To Have A Slim Young Parsnip Under My Knife.

I Am Hungry To Be Interrupted For Ever And Ever Amen O Person From Porlock Come Quickly And Bring My Thoughts To An End.