To begin, at the beginning.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.
Come on up, boys -I'm dead.
Oh, I'm a martyr to music.
It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.
These are but dreaming men. Breathe, and they fade.