To Be A Good Loser Is To

A Liar Goes In Fine Clothes, A Liar Goes In Rags, A Liar Is A Liar, Clothes Or No Clothes.

Poetry Is A Fresh Morning Spider-web Telling A Story Of Moonlit Hours Of Weaving And Waiting During A Night.

There Are Ten Men In Me And I Do Not Know Or Understand One Of Them.

Nothing Happens Unless First We Dream.

There Was Always The Consolation That If I Didn't Like What I Wrote I Could Throw It Away Or Burn It.