The people I want to hear about are the people who take risks.

He thought that I was after him for a feather--- The white one in his tail: like one who takes everything said as personal to himself.

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

Forgive me my nonsense, as I also forgive the nonsense of those that think they talk sense.

The chance is the remotest, Of its going much longer unnoticed, That I'm not keeping pace With the headlong human race

Nobody was ever meant, To remember or invent, What he did with every cent.

I am not a teacher. I am an awakener.