Always the path of American destiny has been into the unknown. Always there arose enough reserves of strength, balances of sanity, portions of wisdom to carry the nation through to a fresh start with ever-renewing vitality.

We don't have to think up a title till we get the doggone book written.

And all poets love dust and mist because all the last answers. Go running back to dust and mist.

The dead hold in their hands only what they have given away.

Now I am here - now read me - give me a name.

Gather the stars if you wish it so Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and years. And then... Loosen your hands, let go and say good-bye. Let the stars and songs go. Let the faces and years go. Loosen your hands and say good-bye.

I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.