I could define poetry this way: it is that which is lost out of both prose and verse in translation.

A bank is a place where they lend you an umbrella in fair weather and ask for it back when it begins to rain.

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

But not gold in commercial quantities, Just enough gold to make the engagement rings And marriage rings of those who owned the farm. What gold more innocent could one have asked for?

How many times it thundered before Franklin took the hint! How many apples fell on Newton's head before he took the hint! Nature is always hinting at us. It hints over and over again. And suddenly we take the hint.

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift, The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee, Expend their bloom in vain. Come over the hills and far with me, And be my love in the rain.

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence.