But The More Poetry One Reads The

If You Wish To Live, You Must First Attend Your Own Funeral.

But The More Poetry One Reads The More One Longs To Read!

Make It A Rule Of Life Never To Regret And Never To Look Back. Regret Is An Appalling Waste Of Energy, You Can't Build On It It's Only Good For Wallowing In.

Isn't Life,' She Stammered, 'isn't Life--' But What Life Was She Couldn't Explain. No Matter. He Quite Understood. 'isn't It, Darling?' Said Laurie.

No, No The Mind I Love Must Still Have Wild Places - A Tangled Orchard Where Dark Damsons Drop In The Heavy Grass, An Overgrown Litde Wood, The Chance Of A Snake Or Two (real Snakes), A Pool That Nobody's Fathomed The Depth Of, And Paths Threaded With Those Litde Flowers Planted By The Wind.