Ordering a man to write a poem is like commanding a pregnant woman to give birth to a red-headed child.

I glory in this world of men and women, torn with troubles, yet living on to love and laugh through it all.

Poetry is the establishment of a metaphorical link between white butterfly-wings and the scraps of torn-up love-letters.

The sea is always the same: and yet the sea always changes.

Tell no man anything, for no man listens Yet hold thy lips ready to speak.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.

Ordering a man to write a poem is like commanding a pregnant woman to give birth to a red-headed child.