For Art Is Order, But It Is

Gardening Is The Instrument Of Grace.

For Poetry Exists To Break Through To Below The Level Of Reason Where The Angels And Monsters That The Amenities Keep In The Cellar May Come Out To Dance, To Rove And Roar, Growling And Singing, To Bring Life Back To The Enclosed Rooms Where Too Often We Are Only 'living And Partly Living.

In A Total Work, The Failures Have Their Not Unimportant Place.

There Is A Proper Balance Between Not Asking Enough Of Oneself And Asking Or Expecting Too Much.

I Am Not Ready To Die, / But I Am Learning To Trust Death / As I Have Trusted Life.