In the great cities, winter glitters with art and feasting. But poetry, the country cousin, sees only the dearth of the fields.
Successful innovations become conventions.
Innocence: I am only stepping on your face because it lies in my path.
Many attempt to harvest what was never planted.
I am now old enough to make common cause with my predecessors against my successors.
People often imagine that being hard to please confers a certain superiority.