Willow trees are kind, Dear God. They will not bear a body on their limbs.
Nothing will do me any good unless I learn to control this body of mine.
The rainbow is elusive, and its colors but the illumination of tears.
Didacticism is the death of art.
In every race, in every nation, and in every clime in every period of history there is always an eager-eyed group of youthful patriots who seriously set themselves to right the wrongs done to their race or nation or . . . art or self-expression.
Blue. My God! I'm so blue that if I were a dog, I'd sit on my haunches and howl and howl and howl...