Why does a hearse horse snicker, hauling a lawyer away?

Poetry is a mystic, sensuous mathematics of fire, smoke-stacks, waffles, pansies, people, and purple sunsets.

There have been as many varieties of socialists as there are wild birds that fly in the woods and sometimes go up and on through the clouds.

There is no song to your singing.

Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.

I take you and pile high the memories. Death will break her claws on some I keep.

Every blunder behind us is giving a cheer for us, and only for those who were willing to fail are the dangers and splendors of life.