To Some People A Tree Is Something

The Stars Are Threshed, And The Souls Are Threshed From Their Husks.

Imitation Is Criticism.

No Bird Soars Too High If He Soars With His Own Wings.

The Poison Tree I Was Angry With My Friend: I Told My Wrath, My Wrath Did End. I Was Angry With My Foe; I Told It Not, My Wrath Did Grow. And I Water'd It In Fears, Night & Morning With My Tears; And I Sunned It With My Smiles And With Soft Deceitful Wiles. And It Grew Both Day And Night, Till It Bore An Apple Bright; And My Foe Beheld It Shine, And He Knew That It Was Mine, And Into My Garden Stole When The Night Had Veil'd The Pole: In The Morning Glad I See My Foe Outstretch'd Beneath The Tree.

The Tree Which Moves Some To Tears Of Joy Is In The Eyes Of Others Only A Green Thing That Stands In The Way. Some See Nature All Ridicule And Deformity... And Some Scarce See Nature At All. But To The Eyes Of The Man Of Imagination, Nature Is Imagination Itself.