Bring me the sunset in a cup.
The appetite for silence is seldom an acquired taste.
My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word
Write me of hope and love, and hearts that endured.
Why should we censure Othello when the Criterion Lover says, "Thou shalt have no other Gods before Me"?
I cannot help esteem The 'Bird within the Hand' Superior to the one The 'Bush' may yield me Or may not Too late to choose again