Poetry Is Talking On Tiptoe.

I Know Him, February's Thrush, And Loud At Eve He Valentines On Sprays That Paw The Naked Bush Where Soon Will Sprout The Thorns And Bines.

Perfect Simplicity Is Unconsciously Audacious.

Faith Works Miracles. At Least It Allows Time For Them.

A Human Act Once Set In Motion Flows On Forever To The Great Account. Our Deathlessness Is In What We Do, Not In What We Are.

She Poured A Little Social Sewage Into His Ears.