Arithmetic Is Where Numbers Fly Like Pigeons

Poetry Is A Theorem Of A Yellow-silk Handkerchief Knotted With Riddles, Sealed In A Balloon Tied To The Tail Of A Kite Flying In A White Wind Against A Blue Sky In Spring.

Poetry Is A Sequence Of Dots And Dashes, Spelling Depths, Crypts, Cross-lights, And Moon Wisps.

A Book Is Never A Masterpiece: It Becomes One. Genius Is The Talent Of A Dead Man.

The Buffaloes Are Gone. And Those Who Saw The Buffaloes Are Gone.

I Glory In This World Of Men And Women, Torn With Troubles, Yet Living On To Love And Laugh Through It All.