Let All The Poison That Lurks In

One Gets To The Heart Of The Matter By A Series Of Experiences In The Same Pattern, But In Different Colors.

The Gift Of Independence Once Granted Cannot Be Lightly Taken Away Again.

Any Honest Housewife Would Sort Them Out,/ Having A Nose For Fish, An Eye For Apples.

Poetry Is No More A Narcotic Than A Stimulant; It Is A Universal Bittersweet Mixture For All Possible Household Emergencies And Its Action Varies Accordingly As It Is Taken In A Wineglass Or A Tablespoon, Inhaled, Gargled Or Rubbed On The Chest By Hard Fingers Covered With Rings.

If I Were A Young Man With My Bones Full Of Marrow, Oh, If I Were A Bold Young Man Straight As An Arrow, I'd Store Up No Virtue For Heaven's Distant Plain, I'd Live At Ease As I Did Please And Sin Once Again.