A good poem about failure is a success.

Depression is to me as daffodils were to Wordsworth.

Heads in the Women's Ward On pillow after pillow lies The wild white hair and staring eyes; Jaws stand open; necks are stretched With every tendon sharply sketched; A bearded mouth talks silently To someone no one else can see. Sixty years ago they smiled At lover, husband, first-born child. Smiles are for youth. For old age come Death's terror and delirium.

I have wished you something None of the others would.

I like spaghetti because you don't have to take your eyes off the book to pick about among it, it's all the same.

You can't put off being young until you retire.

Sexual intercourse began in 1963 ... / Between the end of the Chatterley ban/ and the Beatles first LP