Immature Poets Imitate; Mature Poets Steal.

Hungry Hatred, Will Not Strive Against Intelligence Self-interest.

I Gotta Use Words To Talk To You.

Thus With Most Careful Devotion Thus With Precise Attention To Detail, Interfering Preparation Of That Which Is Already Prepared Men Lighten The Knot Of Confusion Into Perfect Misunderstanding, Reflecting A Pocket-torch Of Observation.

What We Know Of Other People's Only Our Memory Of The Moments During Which We Knew Them.

His Laughter Tinkled Among The Teacups.