Poetry Is What Is Lost In Translation.

It Was Far In The Sameness Of The Wood; I Was Running With Joy On The Demon's Trail, Though I Knew What I Hunted Was No True God.

I Hate The Idea That You Ought To Read The Whole Of Anybody.

The Father Is Always A Republican Toward His Son, And His Mother's Always A Democrat.

There Would Be More Than Ocean-water Broken Before God's Last Put Out The Light Was Spoken.

There Are Few Sorrows, However Poignant, In Which A Good Income Is Of No Avail.