Well, write poetry, for God's sake, it's the only thing that matters.
Unless you love someone, nothing else makes any sense.
O sweet spontaneous earth how often has the naughty thumb of science prodded thy beauty thou answereth them only with spring.
life's not a paragraph And death i think is no parenthesis
One's not half two. It's two are halves of one.
mr youse needn't be so spry concernin questions arty each has his tastes but as for i i likes a certain party gimme the he-man's solid bliss for youse ideas i'll match youse a pretty girl who naked is is worth a million statues