Much Have I Travell'd In The Realms

You Are Always New, The Last Of Your Kisses Was Ever The Sweetest.

Dry Your Eyes O Dry Your Eyes, For I Was Taught In Paradise To Ease My Breast Of Melodies.

That Which Is Creative Must Create Itself.

If Poetry Does Not Come As Naturally As Leaves To A Tree, Then It Better Not Come At All.

Here Lies One Whose Name Was Writ In Water.