The most pleasant and useful persons are those who leave some of the problems of the universe for God to worry about.

This is another day! Are its eyes blurred with maudlin grief for any wasted past? A thousand thousand failures shall not daunt! Let dust clasp dust, death, death; I am alive!

There was once a Hindu sage, who sat down on the banks of the Ganges and thought for seventy years about the millennium. Just as he arrived at the solution and was putting it into verse, a mosquito stung him and he forgot it again at once.

Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.

That stern and rockbound coast felt like an amateur when it saw how grim the puritans that landed on it were.

Man cannot be uplifted; he must be seduced into virtue

i have had my ups and downs but wotthehell wotthehell yesterday sceptres and crowns fried oysters and velvet gowns and today i herd with bums but wotthehell wotthehell i wake the world from sleep as i caper and sing and leap when i sing my wild free tune wotthehell wotthehell under the blear eyed moon i am pelted with cast off shoon but wotthehell wotthehell