Poets Can't Worry About Popularity Since Loving

A Heart Needs Only Its Own Voice To Do What Is Right.

Because I Had Goodwill For All, I Thought All Were My Friends. And Then I Learned Of Treachery, That Some Preferred My End. It Wasn't The Goodwill I Felt That Made Someone A Friend. What Handy Day, The One I Learned The Meaning Of The Word. How Good To Know My Enemies (though Their Reasons Are Absurd!)

Sometime Is That Appointment, The Final One To Meet. Let's Color All With Love, For Time Is Naught But Fleet.

My Body Is The Fruit Of Spirits' Play.

We've Been There On World Wars, It's Time For World Party I.