Poetry Is Mostly Hunches.

I'm Heading For A Clean-named Place Like Wisconsin, And Mad As A Jack-o'-lantern, Will Get There Without Help And Nosy Proclivities.

The Summer Demands And Takes Away Too Much. /but Night, The Reserved, The Reticent, Gives More Than It Takes

The Promise Of Learning Is A Delusion.... Tomorrow Would Alter The Sense Of What Had Already Been Learned, That The Learning Process Is Extended In This Way, So That From This Standpoint None Of Us Ever Graduates From College, For Time Is An Emulsion, And Probably Thinking Not To Grow Up Is The Brightest Kind Of Maturity For Us, Right Now At Any Rate.

Then Let Yourself Love All That You Take Delight In Accept Yourself Whole, Accept The Heritage That Shaped You And Is Passed On From Age To Age Down To Your Entity. Remain Mysterious; Rather Than Be Pure, Accept Yourself As Numerous.

Once You've Lived In France, You Don't Want To Live Anywhere Else, Including France.