A poem may be worked over once it is in being, but may not be worried into being.

Keep all ur troubles in ur own pocket. But, make sure that the pocket has a hole!

Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November days Before the coming of the snow.

When I see birches bend to left and right... I like to think some boy's been swinging them.

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.

Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and building a wall.

Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat.