The sidelong glance is what you depend on.

Some spirit to stand simply forth, Heroic in its nakedness, Against the uttermost of earth.

I am assured at any rate Man's practically inexterminate. Someday I must go into that. There's always been an Ararat Where someone someone else begat To start the world all over at.

A true sonnet goes eight lines and then takes a turn for better or worse and goes six or eight lines more.

I never feel more at home than at a ballgame.

Two such as you with such a master speed Cannot be parted nor be swept away

You can't get too much winter in the winter.