A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or a love sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

The artist in me cries out for design.

Nor is there wanting in the press Some spirit to stand simply forth, Heroic in it nakedness, Against the uttermost of earth. The tale of earth's unhonored things Sounds nobler there than 'neath the sun; And the mind whirls and the heart sings, And a shout greets the daring one.

If there is one thing in life that I have learned about life it is... it goes on.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

I have miles to go before I sleep.

The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.