We Had The Experience, But We Missed

Each Venture Is A New Beginning, A Raid On The Inarticulate With Shabby Equipment Always Deteriorating In The General Mess Of Imprecision Of Feeling.

I Have Heard The Mermaids Singing, Each To Each. I Do Not Think That They Will Sing To Me.

No Poet, No Artist Of Any Art, Has His Complete Meaning Alone.

Envy Is Everywhere. Who Is Without Envy? And Most People Are Unaware Or Unashamed Of Being Envious.

This Is The Way The World Ends, Not With A Bang, But A Whimper.