As Small As A World As Large

I'm Living So Far Beyond My Income That We May Almost Be Said To Be Living Apart.

One Day Anyone Died I Guess (and Noone Stooped To Kiss His Face) Busy Folk Buried Them Side By Side Little By Little And Was By Was

In Just - Spring When The World Is Mud- Luscious The Little Lame Balloonman Whistles Far And Wee

Every Artist's Strictly Illimitable Country Is Himself. An Artist Who Plays That Country False Has Committed Suicide; And Even A Good Lawyer Cannot Kill The Dead. But A Human Being Who's True To Himself - Whoever Himself May Be - Is Immortal; And All The Atomic Bombs Of All The Antiartists In Spacetime Will Never Civilize Immortality.

So, When Kiss Spring Comes We'll Kiss Each Kiss Other On Kiss The Kiss Lips Because Tic Clocks Tock Don't Make A Toctic Difference To Kisskiss You And To Kiss Me.