For we must be one thing or the other, an asset or a liability, the sinew in your wing to help you soar, or the chain to bind you to earth.

I have a rendezvous with life.

Give but a grain of the heart's rich seed, Confine some under cover, And when love goes, bid him God-speed. And find another lover.

Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:/ To make a poet black, and bid him sing!

The truth is... everything counts. Everything. Everything we do and everything we say. Everything helps or hurts; everything adds to or takes away from someone else.

Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.

We shall not always plant while others reap