Summary Riposte To The Dreary Wail There's

Freedom Is When You Are Easy In The Harness.

My Sorrow, When She's Here With Me, Thinks These Dark Days Of Autumn Rain Are Beautiful As Days Can Be; She Loves The Bare, The Withered Tree; She Walks The Sodden Pasture Lane.

A True Sonnet Goes Eight Lines And Then Takes A Turn For Better Or Worse And Goes Six Or Eight Lines More.

What Is Required Is Sight And Insight- Then You Might Add One More: Excite.

Fortunately, We Don't Need To Know How Bad An Age Is. There Is Something We Can Always Be Doing Without Reference To How Good Or Bad The Age Is.