Dreaming Men Are Haunted Men.

We Thought We Were Done With These Things But We Were Wrong. We Thought, Because We Had Power, We Had Wisdom.

I Have Fallen In Love With American Names, The Sharp Names That Never Get Fat, The Snakeskin-titles Of Mining-claims, The Plumed War-bonnet Of Medicine Hat, Tucson And Deadwood And Lost Mule Flat.

I Shall Not Rest Quiet In Montparnasse. I Shall Not Lie Easy At Winchelsea. You May Bury My Body In Sussex Grass, You May Bury My Tongue At Champmedy. I Shall Not Be There. I Shall Rise And Pass. Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee

I Had Lost Something In My Youth And Made Money Instead.

Money Is Sullen And Wisdom Is Sly, But Youth Is The Pollen That Blows Through The Sky And Does Not Ask Why.