Create And Stir Other People To Create.

Evolution Is Like Walking On A Rolling Barrel. The Walker Isn't So Much Interested In Where The Barrel Is Going As He Is In Keeping On Top Of It.

There Is No Love. There's Only Love Of Men And Women, Love Of Children, Love Of Friends, Of Men, Of God: Divine Love, Human Love, Parental Love, Roughly Discriminated For The Rough.

Ah, When To The Heart Of Man Was It Ever Less Than A Treason To Go With The Drift Of Things, To Yield With A Grace To Reason, And Bow And Accept The End Of A Love Or A Season?

Now No Joy But Lacks Salt That Is Not Dashed With Pain And Weariness And Fault; I Crave The Stain Of Tears, The Aftermark Of Almost Too Much Love, The Sweet Of Bitter Bark And Burning Clove.

I Go To School The Youth To Learn The Future.