The Chance Is The Remotest, Of Its

As It Is More Blessed To Receive, So It Must Be More Blessed To Receive Than To Give Back.

Poets Are Like Baseball Pitchers. Both Have Their Moments. The Intervals Are The Tough Things.

The Heart Can Think Of No Devotion Greater Than Being Shore To The Ocean- Holding The Curve Of One Position, Counting An Endless Repetition.

The Nearest Friends Can Go With Anyone To Death, Comes So Far Short They Might As Well Not Try To Go At All.

A Definite Purpose, Like Blinders On A Horse, Inevitably Narrows Its Possessor's Point Of View.