Sometimes It Is Necessary To Reteach A

Prose Is Walking; Poetry Is Flying

The Rest Of My Days I Spend Wandering: Wondering What, Anyway, Was That Sticky Infusion, That Rank Flavor Of Blood, That Poetry, By Which I Lived?

I Will Find That Special Person Who Is Wrong For Me In Just The Right Way.

The First Step In The Journey Is To Lose Your Way.

Go So Deep Into Yourself, You Speak For Everyone.