We're Either Nothing Or A God's Regret.

Why Make So Much Of Fragmentary Blue In Here And There A Bird, Or Butterfly, Or Flower, Or Wearing-stone, Or Open Eye, When Heaven Presents In Sheets The Solid Hue?

For Dear Me, Why Abandon A Belief Merely Because It Ceases To Be True

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors.

I Am Not A Teacher. I Am An Awakener.

Skepticism, Is That Anything More Than We Used To Mean When We Said, Well, What Have We Here?